Before the Deckers
by gypsysfeather
Summary: Trina Russo is twenty-one years old, single, and a first year flight attendant. It's her second week on the Miami route, with the very handsome Captain Decker, who holds quite the reputation for bringing young women to his room. [Rated M for sexual content]
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: _

_Here's a new Swingtown story for you guys! And to my dear followers who read "A Swinging Surprise", I do intend on writing that, but I just don't get as much oomph to write it as often as I do OUAT or this. Please forgive me, and I hope to update it soon!_

_This story is about Trina; she's twenty-one years old and unmarried. It's her first year being a flight attendant, and her second week on Captain Decker's route. _

_We learn how the Deckers met and interacted before the marriage, which is something I've always wondered. Also, I was scrolling through the Swingtown category on FF and realized there's not one M rated story...so I had to change that ;) I mean c'mon, this was a show about something pretty scandalous and there's no mature stories? Sheesh. ;)_

_I hope you enjoy! This __will__ end up being a full story, not just a one-shot._

**..**

**...**

"Captain Decker?" Her voice rings through the intercom from the one cab to the next like sweet, soft music. "Your coffee is ready, would you like it in your-"

"Yes." He answers quickly, making Trina smile and straighten her spine out a little before opening the door into the small hallway, opening yet another door to the pilot's cab.

The coffee is in an open, ceramic mug, steam whooshing off of it to let him know that it's very fresh, _just _made. Her smile is big, her hair is perfectly curly (but when they land in Miami, it won't be again from all of the humidity), and she leans over a bit to hand it to him. When she leans, her shirt is unbuttoned only at the top, letting a little more cleavage to show than her bosses would honestly permit. "There you are, Captain Decker. Enjoy." She coos, keeping that same, warm smile as she turns on one heel, walking out of his cab.

It's her second week on this route, her first full year being a stewardess. Everyone has their different reasons for becoming a flight attendant, but for Trina Russo she had a very dirty reason, one that wouldn't make her mother very proud if she knew it.

For being twenty-one, she's slept with more men than most women these days would be proud to say. She'd only had one boy that she'd actually liked, and that ended in high school. His name was Luke McPartlin, and he was the boy whom she'd first slept with. All throughout high school, they were pretty steady. He would give her adorable little love notes and such that would turn into an evening in the backseat of his 1957 Chevorlet Bel-Air Hardtop, red seats and all.

Although, hot, steamy nights were easy in high school, they weren't so easy to keep up after they graduated. He went to law school, she didn't even care to be _in _any other school, and they eventually parted ways. He was the first boy that ever got hold of her, but most certainly not the last.

Three years later, now, she's never had a steady relationship like it was with Luke. One night stands, and those were often. Especially since she has become a flight attendant, starting on the route to Atlanta, then to New York City, and now onto _this _route. The one where she feels the need to compete, because she knows Captain Decker's reputation. The other woman she works with is one just barely older than her, twenty-four, and her name is Patty. Blonde, slim, tall, and perfect complexion. But she's somewhat awkward, and Trina wonders how she's ever gotten the courage to sleep with the captain when she can hardly look men in the eye on the plane while giving them alcohol.

Nonetheless, Trina unbuttons her top button as soon as the door to the outside closes, and buttons it back when it opens in Chicago. She can't let her bosses know what's going on (or at least, what she's trying to _get _to go on), and she doesn't want to lose her job over a simple mistake she could make like that.

After the small, closet-like door closes to the room she and Patty are in, she leans against the small rolling table where all of the food and drinks are, folding her arms over her stomach and crossing her legs in front of her. "So," She begins, keeping calm and collected, but about to start some gossip, "Are you and Captain Decker...a – an item?" She asks, raising a brow mischievously and waiting for the naive girl's answer.

Her face looks slightly surprised as she turns to face the brunette, holding a Coca-Cola can in her hand. "I – isn't every woman he works with an item with him?"

Trina huffs, smiling and standing up on both feet. For some reason, she feels a twinge of jealousy, looks at her outfit and wonders why he hasn't tried to make a move on her yet. After all, she's given him every opportunity to do so. She feels insecure, and that's something she's never felt in her life (other than at the events her mother has dragged her to).

"Let me guess," Patty continues, taking the position Trina was holding (but somehow, didn't look as calm as she had), "He hasn't tried you out yet?"

A coy brow is raised, "Tried me out? Honey, I'm not a play toy." She snips, taking her position back. "I'm a woman, one that has had more experience than some prostitute."

And that's where Patty backs away, making Trina wonder what she'd just said to make her do that. "Well I'm not-"

"Oh, no..." She realizes, then, that she thinks she was accusing her of being said prostitute, assuring, "I didn't mean that. I've been on other routes, Patty, I know what captains like. Trust me, Captain Decker's room wouldn't be the first captain's I'll be going in if we ever have a delay, that's for sure." and smiles proudly, more of a smug grin than a smile.

Was she proud of all of the men she's been with? Not necessarily. She's not overly _proud _of her number, she's not overly _proud _of the choices of men she's made, but she feels pretty damn great with a little Quaalude and a lot of sex. _Lots. _Besides, it's not like she's ever going to be that person to settle down, get married and become a little housewife, and have loads of bratty kids that she'll have to deal with. It's not her, nor will it ever be.

"Oh..." and Patty seems suddenly alarmed by _that _too. Trina is beginning to wonder if there's anything that this girl isn't alarmed about. This _woman_, actually, she isn't even a girl. She's older than her. What's the deal? "So...you have...experience?" She asks, hushing her voice on the last word like it was some big deal.

And it isn't a _huge _deal, but it could get them both fired, plus the captain and possibly his co-pilot. It's dangerous talking about this stuff sometimes when they're in this position of work, but Trina doesn't feel the need to hide it, just carefully stow it away when other's shouldn't hear. "Plenty, dear." She answers, becoming looser in her stance and smiling slightly.

Suddenly, Trina feels this tiny room stocked with food and drinks get smaller when Patty's dark brown eyes are watching her. They're like her mother's eyes when she caught Luke sneaking out of her room, completely...judgey. Judgmental and silently telling her she's a slut, just by one look. Again, she's feeling insecure for the second time in one day. "I guess – not that it's...a bad thing." Patty finally admits, making Trina not feel quite so harsh on herself. "I mean, not in this day and age I suppose."

"Not at all. Women can be just as...well, women can have as much sex as men." She answers, always being blunt and open about the subject. She's never felt that it's something to be kept in, sex is natural and something we all do at one point. She's just done it with more men at twenty-one than most her age. "And it's not something we should be ashamed of." She makes sure to add, shrugging it off and turning toward the cart to dig around in the metal ice bucket, taking out a can of Coca-Cola for herself.

Patty is nodding after a moment to think, and she sips at her can before setting it down. "Captain Decker really _is _the best."

And with that, Trina is seen biting her lip. Before she can answer, the intercom is on for assistance on row eight, seat D. With that, she nods toward the blonde with a small smile, fixes her top button, and walks out to meet the person who needed her.

**..**

…

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Miami International Airport. Local time is 8:35 PM and the temperature is nice and warm at eighty-five degrees. For your safety and comfort, please stay seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign. This will indicate that we have parked at the gate and that it is safe for you to move about." Her voice is orating smoothly throughout the fuzzy intercom as she explains what her passengers need to do during the landing into Miami, "On behalf of Pan-American Airlines and the entire crew, I'd like to thank you for joining us on this trip and we are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the near future. I hope you have a nice stay here in Miami, or wherever your travels may take you." and finally, that's the end of that.

She hangs the communicator up on the wall where it goes, opens the door to prepare passengers to leave, and one-by-one helps them by saying _Watch your step _and _Have a nice stay. _Same thing every day, and _damn_ was that humidity ferocious. She could practically feel her perm falling out of it's hold just from standing beside the door.

But it makes it all okay when Captain Decker squishes beside her, trying to move past her but hitting her back side instead. "Sorry, Miss Russo."

His voice is deep, _a mature man_; his eyes are tired, _well expected; _and his body is hard and muscular, _a strong one._ Her mind has wandered to think of what it would feel like for his nice, tan arms to be around her naked form, accidentally forgetting to do her job before a passenger trips on the way out. She catches him just a time before he _really _falls, and gives a warm smile. "Sorry about that, have a nice stay." She tells him, bringing her nice, warm stewardess voice back.

His nod is reassuring to let her know that he isn't upset about it, and she's glad for that. She may have taken the job for it's perks, but she doesn't like to have upset passengers. She likes the job for what it is, too.

Only a few more people, and she can go back and flirt with the Captain once he gets out of the lavatory.

And that's exactly once she does while Patty is in the other cabin, cleaning up a few things and Trina is making the rounds to check the carry-ons. "Hello, Captain Decker. Can I get you anything?" She asks, her warm smile reappearing as she leans against one of the seats.

He's just come out of the lavatory, and he's running his fingers through his mid-length, dirty blonde hair. "Ah, no thanks, Miss Russo."

_Damn it. _She just wants a chance to be around him more...why is he turning her down? And _continuing _to turn her down, even after her trying to get through to him?

Finally, once the co-pilot leaves the helm where the captain has gone, she follows him in there and shuts the door behind her. "Captain Decker?"

"Miss Russo?"

She nods, biting her lip subtly before leaning back against the wall behind them, "I'm not as naive as you seem to think I am, Captain Decker."

He turns around from his seat, narrowing his eyes at her and furrowing his brow. "Enough with the captain." He states before standing up, invading her space (she's pretty sure it's purposely, too), "And who ever said you were naive, Miss Russo?"

"Trina." She corrects politely, cocking her jaw to the side a little before going on, "I'm pretty sure you think I am, simply because I'm one of the youngest to work on this airline who _isn't _a trainee."

He nods once, slowly, sizing her up (she thinks). His arms are crossing in front of him as he leans against the back of his seat, crossing his feet out in front of him. "And what do I think you're naive at, Trina?" He asks, his voice is low and coy, and she knows he's playing with her. She knows that he knows what she's talking about.

"Can we drop the act?" She finally asks, "I'm tired of the charade, and we're both staying in the same hotel." She states, tilting her head and suddenly looking about ten times more seductive than she was in her last sentence.

She can see the change in his expression, like he's glad, also, that they've dropped the game, he replies, "I suppose you're wanting a night in my room, then." and smiles somewhat mischievously.

Her brows flick upward as a short reply, "A night in your bed, actually."

As he watches her, the corners of his lips pull up into a bit of a smirk from his little mischievous, "Forward, huh?"

"I have my experience." And with that, he nods, understanding that she really _isn't _so naive, which makes her breathe inward with a heavy sense or relaxation, glad she doesn't have to prove herself that she's ready. "Besides, we've both been on this jet all day, don't you think the both of us need a little bit of..._relaxation?_" She asks, clicking her tongue somehow in a way that has driven any man crazy.

His little smirk is now turning into a grin, a smile, and then a larger smile, "Well, let's get on with it, shall we?" He asks, moving past her (invading her space – again) and opening the cabin door to the outer part of the plane, then slipping through the last door where the crew was already waiting for them to get off.

Her smile is proud, happy with herself that she's finally got Captain Decker, and he's about to have her in his bed.

**..**

…

_Green-Eyed Lady _by Sugarloaf is playing in his room when she walks up. She can hear it while standing outside of his door where she told him she would meet him. She's brushing her fingers through her hair. _Green-eyed lady, wind-swept lady, rules the night, the waves, the sand. Green-eyed lady, ocean lady, child of nature, friend of man. _She clears her throat, hopes she looks presentable in her stewardess uniform, and knocks on the door.

He turns the music down, and she knows he's coming for the door. Room 747, _how ironic. _When the door swings open, he's only in his pants. His chest is bare, and her eyes immediately fall down to the small patch of hair that's there. She smiles, he lets her in, and it's completely silent as she's setting her purse down beside the small couch in his room.

"Good evening, Trina." He says, pouring a drink for her. She wonders what it is, but she never asks before she takes it.

He's got one in his hands too, and it looks exactly the same. Up to her lips, she brings the glass of what appears to have been gin and something else, which she can't quite put her finger on and decide what it is. Not to mention, there's a slice of lime in with it, swishing around with the cubes of ice. She doesn't really enjoy limes all that much (except for when she has tequila, of course), but even then she sometimes chooses the lemon instead of lime. With a little jolt, she figures it to be gin and tonic. It wouldn't be her first choice, but she's sure the captain probably is somewhat limited at the hotel.

He's setting it down, now, once she comes out of her thoughts. "Good evening, Mr. Decker." She replies, realizing she doesn't exactly know what to call him now that he told her _no Captain. _Did that mean just no captain, or no Decker? Just Tom?

Apparently it's just Tom, because he answers her and tells her so. She nods, setting her drink down and biting her lip. She's never waited this long to just get on with it, and she's wondering what's taking so long.

Finally, he's walking over to her, the smell of gin on his breath as he runs his hand along the back of her neck, the end of his fingers through her curly hair. "You ready?"

And with that, he's captivated her already. Somehow. She's never felt so intimated by a man before, not with Luke, not with the last two pilots, not with _anyone_. She's normally very strong, intimidates others easily, but this man was different. So all she can seem to do is nod, biting her lip down even harder than it was before.

He nods in reply to hers, runs his left hand along her right side and stops just below her ass, sliding it around to rest underneath, then picks her up on his hips with only that arm supporting her light weight.

She's gained her confidence, her lips are on his in no time, now, and he's walking backwards with her on him. Tongues are already dancing, it's already heated and already, somehow, passionate. She sees what everyone talks about, how easy it is to love him like this.

The backs of his clothed legs hit the bed, falling backwards with her landing on his chest, straddling his hips still and suddenly grinding against his slight bulge. Her eyes open, her mouth slowly leaves his, and her smile comes back (not as warm, but more seductive like it was when she was trying to prove herself to him earlier). "One more thing, I don't want to get pregnant." She whispers, somewhat ruining the heat for a moment before he digs in his pocket, a little foil packet emerging in his fingers.

He tells her that he's already ahead of her, that he doesn't want kids either. And with that, she presses her lips back on his, slides her arms around to the back of his neck, and his grinding her hips against his again.

He's using his feet that are now on the bed to scoot back into a better spot on the mattress, holding and groping at her ass before rolling them over. Her smile is devious under him, keeping her arms locked around his neck. "I do hope you know, _Tom, _that I'm not as naive as you think I am. Really."

He smiles, already working his nimble fingers (she can tell he's well-experienced, because he doesn't fumble around with them like some do). The buttons are all un-done, her top is open and her skin is now bare. Her bra is almost see-through, black, but completely lace. Her nipples are hardened underneath the thin material, partially from the sudden drop in temperature and from being aroused. "I didn't expect you to be, especially not after seeing this." He notes, pointing his head down to the sexy piece of lingerie she's sporting.

She doesn't blush, never has except for her first time. But she does feel a bubble in her stomach, one that makes her lip be bitten down again between her teeth. She's not sure if she's doing that to stop herself from answering something too naughty for this early in the night, or if she's doing it to _avoid _the blush that's bound to come if he keeps giving her sweet nothings like he's doing right now. "Well, I guess surprises come in many forms." She whispers, giving a subtle, beautiful wink at the end of that sentence before his hands are already helping her bra down her chest.

He's greedy, she can feel it. She can tell he's wanting all of her, but she's going to be a complete bitch and not give it all to him in such short amount of time. She's going to demand the foreplay, she's going to demand the touching, feeling, and licking and all of that sort of thing before he ever even gets to touch what he wants against what he wants.

And she's telling him that with her hand, by grabbing his wrist at her waist, cooing, "Ah ah, I say when." and wrapping her leg around his hip, demanding that she have a little control here.

His jaw is cocked to the left slightly, and she's noticed over the past two weeks that it's what he does when he's slightly irritated. So she smiles, proud of herself yet again that she's taken a little piece of him already. But his eyes are almost pleading, almost speaking to her without ever having to move his lips. She's having trouble ignoring it, but she closes her own dark browns and pulls his head to her – crashing their mouths together with a groan from the both of them.

With that, she's getting that ball of heat that's starting to disperse and warm her up in all the right places, exactly where she wants. Her heel is digging into his tight ass, and he lets out another loud moan when she digs in particularly hard. He jolts forward into her lips, and she's got him where she wants him.

Her bra straps are stretched to their limit, the thin material kissing her skin above her navel. He's now kissing down her chin, to her warm neck, and down to her chest. He stops for a moment, giving extra attention – where he'd skipped over the first time – just below her ear, placing his lips in short kisses around to her hairline.

He's making her shudder, making her leg want to weaken against his ass and making her want to give in, say _hell with the foreplay_ and move on, let him show her what he's about.

But she won't give into her own needs like that. She's going to either be equally in control with him or she'll have _all _of the control. Nothing in between. "You're lips are feeling needy, Tom." She's cooing as he moves his kisses down to her collarbone, making their way slowly down to her sternum.

He pauses for a moment, lifts his lips enough off of her skin to just barely skin the porcelain colored softness, "And your lips are barely there, Trina." He whispers, and it makes her narrow her eyes defensively, like suddenly he thinks she's not doing her part.

So she stops him with a swift palm to his chest, somehow managing to catch him off guard and roll him over onto his back. Her legs are straddling him again, her bra riding up and pressing her breasts up with it, "Fine, I'll show you where my lips are used best, _Tom._" And the way she says his name with emphasis, makes herself wonder what the hell she's doing trying to play the more dominant one.

But her mind isn't playing along with her fingers, because they're already pushing his pants down his legs. Hopping off of him just long enough to get him stripped to nothing, she takes his hardened cock in her fingers and puckers her lips, smiling at him devilishly before puckering again and placing them on his member. He shudders like she did, and she's suddenly proud of herself again. She has him in her hand, still, circling his tip with the end of her tongue before placing another kiss, right there. _Right – there._

"Damn..." He hisses, making the top of his head dig into the pillows, the result of him arching his back. His hands reach down to her, pulling her on top of him easily. "You've shown me, Tri...you're not naive." He finally admits, his eyes gazing up and down her body.

In reality, that's what she's been waiting to hear. It may not have been said in her mind, but that's what she's just been waiting for from him. So she gives in to him, sitting on top of him and letting her skirt ride at her hips (where it's been since the first time she was straddling him. Heaven knows how many skirts she's ripped doing just this).

She leans into him, getting dangerously close to his lips, whispering, "It's Trina." realizing he called her otherwise, and then swiftly opening the small foil packet earlier laid out, sliding the condom onto his length. They were barely on a first name basis, and no more than that. No nicknames, no pet names, simply _their _names.

He looks in her eyes, trying to figure her out. It makes her feel as though she's some mysterious creature that he's the first to discover, but what he is really doing is just trying to figure out if she's human or not. She's sure most of the women he's been with don't mind the cutesy little names, but she's not _most women._

She's now letting him grope her again, letting him feel and touch her ass (because that's all he needs of her, right now. No more, no less). She's letting soft little groans out when he does something she likes, letting him know what she wants and doesn't want. Her lips are on his again, discovering more about them than she'd ever imagined.

They're so soft – minus the prodding mustache – and so warm, too. She feels something shoot through her when her lips are there, and she can't quite place what it is. Kind of like the gin and tonic earlier.

Finally, she's ready to let him have more. She shimmies out of her shirt that's been hanging on her shoulders, letting it fall back and she throws it on the floor beside the bed. Next, she's reaching for her bra, but he places his hands underneath hers and undoes the clasp with ease, tossing it to the side. She suddenly thinks she should keep him around just for that – taking her bra off every night.

Before she knows it, she's sitting on top of him again – naked. But not for long, because he's already rolling them over and putting her on her back. With a swift movement, he turns her on her stomach (in a gentle manner, he's never rough, she notices). Hands are back on her ass, rubbing and sliding down to her thighs to open them up, exposing her wetness and warmth for him. She's ready, and she's not even ashamed to admit she is. He turns her on, and somehow he does it so effortlessly.

In no time, his fingers are already playing with her. He slides one finger inside of her, getting a good feel for her before sliding another, stretching her out some and preparing her for his own size. His ring finger is stretched out, touching and rubbing her clit with little, circular motions that make her moan, that make her want to see his face while she's being so pleased like this.

She decides that's what she wants, and she flips her leg over his arm without even making him have to move, flipping over to her back. She sits up, tightening her muscles around his finger when she uses her abs, and brings her hands to his cheeks. Crashing into each other yet again, they're caught up in moans. His fingers start to pump in and out of her, and she's moaning louder than he. She grips at his neck, pulling her up and making her legs straddle back farther than their original state. "Mmph, is this really how you want to see me come?" She asks, shaking and hoping he doesn't say yes. She doesn't want to come like this. She wants to come with _him _inside of her. Not his fingers.

With that, he removes the two fingers (thankfully) and pushes her legs back, making room for his body to snuggle up in between them, stating, "I'm just making sure you get all the foreplay you're asking for, _Trina._" saying her name like she did his earlier.

She wants to roll her eyes, but with his cock circling her entrance it's all she can do to keep them from just rolling in the back of her head. She hadn't realized how needy she is for him, but she's really wet, really hot, and – _Ah! _He's sliding in, guiding himself into her slowly, making her eyes clench shut and her teeth grit together to hold back a loud moan. After all, they're only in a thin-walled hotel room.

Once she's loosened her death grip on his member, he begins to move in and out of her, repositioning himself to look for her spot. He's searching for it, she can tell, but he's also so relaxed that she wonders if he's on a drug. Hopefully not, he's flying her jet back to Chicago tomorrow morning. And then _ahh..._he finds it. She closes her eyes, channels an inner moan and keeps it in, gripping at her legs to hold them back from wanting to close.

Her right hand slides down her leg, down her thigh and to her stomach, lower, lower, and to her clit. She's throbbing, she's needy everywhere and he just isn't giving her what she wants. Partially, but not fully. And all it's doing is making her frustrated.

But he sees her before she can even start moving her fingers around, and he replaces hers with his. "I've got this." He chokes out, sounding like he was having to hold back a moan, himself.

_At least he's helping_, she thinks to herself, and then suddenly she's already being so pleased that her heart feels like it's about to pound from her chest. She has nowhere to place her hands now, nowhere to touch on herself...other than her breasts. And that's where they slowly start to slide up to, rubbing and pinching her nipples gently in between her fingers. Letting out a short, soft moan when he hits that spot over and over again at a slow and gentle pace.

Her eyes open, meeting his and nodding once toward him, moaning, "Faster." and soon after adding in _harder. _

He obliges, meets her every need and every want, soon pounding into her at a good pace while still keeping his steady, circular motions on her clit. She knows she won't last long while they keep this up, she can already feeling that coil in her stomach tighten up. Winding, winding, and winding until it's time to break.

She insists to herself that she won't be the first to break, still stubborn enough inside her head that _he _needs to be the one to go first. She wouldn't be so easily taken, and she wasn't about to start.

She closes her legs, knowing it makes her feel tighter around him, makes his size feel even larger. The sudden shift makes him moan, his hips jolt into her and causing a chain reaction, her body jolting back into his. His hand has had to be removed from her clit, due to her closing her legs, and he's now thrusting harder, faster, making the cheap bed beneath them squeak at their back and forth motions.

Finally, his hips are slowing down, and one more, final jerk and he's spilling over. Thankfully, because she's been on edge for the last fifteen seconds, but has held on until now where every muscle around him is clenching so tightly that neither of them can move, neither of them are easily breathing, and neither of them have ever climaxed so hard in their lives.

And they're both realizing that as they try to reposition themselves from the originally frozen position. He's sliding out of her gently, her muscles still contracting and her chest still moving up and down heavily.

She suddenly feels like Patty looked: awkward. She's moving slowly, already slightly sore from how well he had just fucked her, and she's attempting to sit up. Once she _finally _makes it in the upright position, she looks over at him (he's already sprawled out on the bed, not caring what's being shown before her), and smiling at her. "You alright there, Trina?"

With a tilt of her head, she nods and narrows her eyes, "Quite alright." She replies, making herself sit up more and make herself look more comfortable than she really is. "I've just...that was...I see what everyone talks about now."

His smile is somewhat proud, a little cocky. His hands are behind his head and he nods, "I guess I have quite the reputation."

As she's getting off of the bed, picking her clothes up along the way, she nods and replies, "You do. And you've held up to it, too."

**..**

…

The next morning, her alarm clock is very rude to her and wants her to get out of the bed at the hellish hour of 5:30 after a night like she just had. Nonetheless, she does it, because she knows two things: One, she'll get fired for not showing up to work. Two, she doesn't want to get stuck in Miami, Florida, even if it _is _party central.

Back on the plane with no words to the captain, simply goes about her job at 7:30 AM, helping passengers get situated and putting the carry-ons up high, and little looks between each other throughout the whole flight. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less – just the way Trina likes it.

**..**

**...**

_A/N:_

_What'd you think? If you liked it, let me know in the reviews so I know whether or not to continue it! Also, give it a follow for if I do decide to continue :) Thank you!_

_G._


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: So sorry this took a ridiculous time to finish. It took a long time just to start it lol. But I haven't forgotten about you all! Thank you for the positive vibes. Hope you enjoy this one too!_**

**_..._**

**_..._**

**_Chapter 2_**

**_..._**

**_..._**

Three weeks pass on the same, everyday route to Miami. Finally, Labor Day comes around and their crew has half of the day off, after 2:00 (which is absolutely perfect for both Trina _and _Tom, because their social activities normally start after dark anyway).

Trina hand delivers his coffee like she always does, neither of them have spoken very much about_ that night,_ but they've spoken to each other just like any other time. "Here you are, Captain Decker." She says, just as he's standing up from his seat.

Stretching, he takes the steaming coffee, thanks her, and starts gathering his things to get on the road and out of this plane. She's watching him and finally realizes that she's wondering if he even cared about their night. What is she thinking? She shouldn't care, but something is grinding at her and telling her she _will _care. Nonetheless, she shakes her head and heads to the closet where Patty is still cleaning up a few things, then starts to help her.

Once everything is cleaned and put away for the next crew, Trina gets her things and steps out of the plane, bumping into Tom. "Oh – I'm sorry." She says, "I guess we just keep bumping into each other." She says innocently, and the bump was exactly that – _innocent. _

He says, "It's alright, not the first time we've knocked together outside of the plane." and his grin is smug as her mind is swirling.

And there she knows, she is sure he remembers that night. It brings a smile to her face, and she has to hold it back by biting her bottom lip down and turning away so she won't reel herself back into him. Not a great idea to suggest it first, again.

But "Hey, Trina!" stops her in her tracks, turning back to him and looking into his sunglasses, "You doing anything later?"

She shakes her head, yells back through the wind, "No, why?" and tries to shield her eyes from the sun with her hand, but it isn't working very well.

He steps to her so he doesn't have to yell as he replies, "I'm having a little party later, and I'd love for you to come. I don't usually invite the stewardesses, but I think you're an exception."

She doesn't answer immediately, she doesn't want to sound like she's been waiting for his invite for three weeks. "Sure? I bet you throw nice parties."

"It's actually something I do every year for the Labor Day party, we have a clam-bake on the beach."

"Clam-bake?" She chokes out, trying not to wrinkle up her nose. She sucks in both of her lips after he nods, and it assures her that she heard him right unfortunately. "Oh, yeah...sounds great." _no it doesn't, you don't like clams_, "Do I need to bring anything?"

"Your bikini and your own drink."

_And a nose clip for those nasty clams, _"Okay, I'll be there." She says with a warm smile, "What time?"

"Any time, I'm heading over there right after this so I can go ahead and get the fire stoked and the clams all clean." He says, looking subtly at her hands for keys, "Do you drive?"

"I can, but I don't have a car at the moment." She says, looking back at where all the other's cars are parked. "I usually just take the cab."

He asks her where she lives, she tells him, and he offers to take her. "I drive that Jaguar right there." He points to the silver, polished, beautifully waxed one.

Her smile is undeniably big, "You drive _that_?" and once again, she has to bite her lip once she realizes how giddy she's acting. How _silly._

"Four years as a pilot pays off." He answers with a little smirk, already taking her coat and her arm, "Come on, you're gonna say yes anyway."

She stops and pulls her arm away, tilting her head with a sly smile, "What makes you think that, tiger?" She asks, teasing him with that name.

He's still facing the cars as he huffs a laugh, then turns on one foot, "Tri, your face-"

"Trina." She insists.

His eyes roll a little, giving her a grimacing look, "_Trina..._your face brightened up when you saw I drive a Jaguar. I know you want to ride in it."

She tries to hold her serious expression, but miserably fails and gives in, nodding, "Okay." She replies, but stops him, "Wait, I have no suit or drink with me. That was the only instruction I was given and now I'm not following..."

Shaking his head, he unlocks his car and starts walking with her to it, "That's fine." He says, his brows raising, "We can get one at the beach, and I suppose I can supply the drink this time."

**..**

…

"So you just...throw this every year for labor day?" She asks, holding her hair away from her face while her thin, lacy cover-up is blowing gracefully in the wind. "Just because?" She continues, her shoulders raising a little in question.

He nods, working on the fire at the moment. "I do. My dad always had one every year and when he died I kinda took over. But I make it more fun. He didn't do much alcohol or..._fun, _really. He just made it a family affair and I...don't." He says, finally getting the log stood up to where he wanted it.

"Oh." She replies, looking back toward the ocean so her hair stops annoying her. _Sometimes I should just get it cut short _plays back in her mind from this morning when it was bothering her while she was trying to put it up. But she knows the facts...if she had to part with her long hair she just wouldn't be the same Trina anymore. "So the alcohol...lots?"

He chuckles, nodding as he stands up and brushes the sand from his knees. "Lots. And lots, and lots, and lots." and then he looks over, seeing the first three couples arrive in their bikinis and swim trunks, coolers (probably full of beer) being toted in their hands.

He's friendly, she can tell that much. He's nice to everyone he knows, but seems to be rude to the new people that he meets. But tonight, she's beginning to realize that it's just because he has an odd kind of shyness to him that makes him put up a wall of arrogance. Like he did with her on the first day. She's glad she's noticed it with the others, though, because she was wondering all this time if he really just wanted to be rude to her or if he had a reason.

Apparently, the ceremonial start to this whole ordeal is to take two shots of tequila. (He was most certainly not lying when he said lots, and lots, and lots of alcohol). The two shots were down, and people were having fun with dancing in the sand, horseshoes clanking against metal poles (or in some cases, like hers, they went skidding in the sand. She's decided she's not the best horseshoe competitor, but doesn't mind it because he gets right aganst her and takes her arm to help her swing it. Still, she fails), and amazing finger foods along with the clams.

In all, it was a great night that didn't end until about two in the morning. Even then, for most, it wasn't ending. The group party might've been, but the couples were just getting started.

Trina is holding her third full beer in her hand, a long neck against her shawl, "So, Tom, where are you going after this?" She asks in an amused tone, tilting her head a bit to wait for his answer.

Smirking, his once bare upper half now covered with a button up shirt – unbuttoned, he answers, "I don't know, Trina, where would _you_ like?" and tips his fourth beer to his lips.

Her smile creeps up on her face before she glances back toward a little shack on the beach, "Is it empty?" She asks, biting her lower lip hard and looking back at him again.

Quickly catching her drift, he throws her a bit of a smirk before nodding and wrapping his arm around her waist, standing up with her and heading off to the shack.

**..**

…

Her bikini top doesn't last long with his greedy hands pulling at it, almost immediately it falls to the floor beneath them without care. His hands are slipping through the sides of her bottoms, his palms scraping gently at her soft thighs while the material is rubbing on the backs of his wrists. She wants him to just take them off of her because her drunkenness her making her impatient.

"Tom..." She breathes, bringing her hands from his biceps and rubbing her palms against her lower abdomen, her fingertips in the hem of her bottoms. She's trying to blatantly tell him to just rip them off, but he's not listening, apparently, because he just kisses her as though to shut her up.

Not that she's complaining about the feel of his mustache on her skin, but she wants those damn bottoms _off. _He's just being too slow. _Way _too slow.

She's growing agitated with him, finally deciding to just take his swim shorts off, untying them and letting them slip down. She sticks her hand down into the hem of his underwear, sliding her palm down against his skin and spreading her middle and ring fingers to let his member slip through the opening. She works that way a few times up and down before finally playing with him, taking him fully in her hand.

His lips part to let a groan out, falling away from hers and breaking the kiss. It caught him by surprise, that's for sure. She's not sure why it did, though, because he should know by now how irritated she is and sexually frustrated.

"Tom..." She finally whispers again, "I think we've both been waiting for each other all night. I think we're both ready." She says, suggesting not-so-subtly that there's no more foreplay needed, that she just needs _him. _And _all _of him.

He must agree, because he's finally taking those soaked bikini bottoms down her legs (though they've been out of the water for hours now...) and tossing them to the side, near her top somewhere, probably. They stumble around a bit as he tries to pull his underwear off, and she finally yanks them down just like she did his shorts. Quick, simple, and easier than he was trying to make it.

Her hand immediately starts working at his length, rubbing his shaft up and down and rubbing over his tip, noticing this time that he has no foreskin. It makes her smile at that little thought since she hasn't ever paid attention to most men other than Luke. But maybe this is one of the men she'll really enjoy.

It's not much longer until now he's been driven wild just as she has, and he's grabbing underneath her ass to pick her up and hoist her onto his hips, sliding himself straight into her.

A slick popping sound echoes through the room as her folds part and she's being intruded, her head leans back and her arms hold onto his neck. He's muttering something about how amazingly wet she is, how he's never known a woman could be so soaked. But she really isn't listening, she's just focusing on his hard cock inside of her and her throbbing clit that's really needing attention.

Her hand rubs down her body and finds the throbbing little bundle of nerves, rubbing at it as he lifts her up and sets her down a few times.

It's not working for either of them. She's not overly large – a pretty normal size – but in muscular strength he isn't all that average, a little below, most likely. So he turns them, presses her against the wall instead of him, and starts moving in and out of her that way.

_Ahhh..._that feels so good. He's hitting that spot already – already _finding _that spot is something that's making her mind spin even more. Her head hits the wall with a hard thud, letting out yet another moan and trying to keep herself under a little more control than this right now. But she can't, damn it. She can't find that control.

And she knows _he _can't either, because the angle and the strength that he's pounding into her is going to make them both come in short moments, yelling and screaming each other's names.

She's already fluttering, every muscle in her body is contracting. Even her jaws and screwed together, her eyes tightly shut. The build up is harsh, overly dramatized by the amount of alcohol they've had. The way his cock jerks inside of her, the feeling of her wetness and his pre-cum dripping down her ass...

_Ah! _"Damn..." She hisses, falling forward and then quickly contracting backward, jerking in his arms as she reaches her climax. She's floating on clouds, hovering over oceans and crashing over the waves. The head spinning hasn't stopped, and another waves seers through her when she feels him pull out and release onto the floor, not thinking a thing about the mess that'll leave for someone.

She starts sliding down with her lips on his lips, moaning as her jello-like legs try to hold her weight but unfortunately fail, needing his shoulders to hold on to. Her eyes finally meet his when the kiss breaks, "I swear that was like my first time ever." She whispers, her head pounding now instead of spinning. She still feels light and feathery, though, except for her legs. Her legs still feel like twigs trying to hold a boulder up.

His nod is in agreement to her statement of the first time thing. "I feel the same way." He tells her, but her stomach flips and she wonders if he tells that to all the girls or if it's just her.

She regains herself a little, her legs gaining strength in them again and her hand letting go of his shoulders. "Well, Captain Decker...until next time, I suppose." She says, gathering her clothes and picking them up into her arms.

She feels ashamed as she picks each one up. She's never felt ashamed before, but this time she feels dirty and...unclean. She knows he's been with many women...it makes her wonder if he's with someone and he's cheating on her with herself.

Those thoughts all pause when she feels a hand on her back, though, and she stands straight up and faces him again. "Trina." He says softly, "Didn't you like that?" He asks, a certain amount of concern ringing in his husky tone.

She wants to say yes, she wants to do it again. She wants to kiss him and fuck him like that again, but she feels disgusted with herself for some reason, and she doesn't know why. So she shakes her head and shrugs, "Yes...but I should be getting home. We both have to work in the morning." She lies, and she immediately regrets it. _He'll obviously knows that it's a lie, Trina._

"We don't work tomorrow." He counters, reaching out for her arm again. "Tri, what's wrong?"

She looks back up at him again and frowns, finally just going to get on with it and asks, "How many other women have you said that to? And how many women will you say that to between now and the next time we have some stupid little horny expedition?" She asks, her voice choking. "Three weeks ago I suggested that we meet in your hotel room. Twenty minutes ago, I suggested that we go to this shack. But two weeks ago, a few days after our hotel visit, how many women did _you _suggest for them to fuck you?"

He's slightly taken aback by her language, which he really shouldn't be. But he steps closer to her and takes her cheek in the palm of his hand. "I haven't had sex since that time in the hotel. And now this."

"Is this what we are?" She asks immediately, and again, immediately regretting it. "Because...I...I'm not sure if I'm ready for a relationship. For anything other than..._this._ But if _this _is what we're doing, I still don't want you screwing around...especially with no condom."

He sighs and runs fingers through his hair, "If we are going to be this and I'm not allowed to be with others, then I'm going to make it official."

"Why? Just so you can insure that you'll have me any time and be able to screw me?"

He grimaces at her and grits his teeth around a little in his mouth, "No, Tri, because I actually like you. We've become friends, have we not?"

She looks down and hugs her clothes over her breasts, shrugging, "I suppose." She says, still irritated about him saying _Tri _instead of Trina for the second time.

Tom nods and keeps rubbing her cheek, "We have sex, we like sex with each other, and we're good friends. So why not just take it to the next step?" He asks, shaking his head in confusion.

Her eyes meet his again but quickly go away, pushing past him to exit. She goes around to the other side of the shack, seriously hoping that no one else was out here, and getting dressed quickly. _Guess I'll walk home._

**_.._**

…

She spends the next day in her apartment. It's rainy, gray, and downright depressing. She tries to not think of last night, but her thoughts keep going back to it. To him. _It. _

Her head finally had stopped pounding around 11:00. She has eaten lunch and almost a whole pint of ice cream straight from the bucket.

She's watched plenty of movies and too much TV, and it's only 5:00. She has run out of things to do, and it's quite boring.

After she gets up and puts the ice cream away, she goes over to the phone and calls the nail salon, making an appointment for a new set. She hasn't had a set in probably a year, but she has a good enough job, now, that she can afford them again. She tells the woman that she would like to come in as soon as possible, so she schedules it for thirty minutes from now and gets dressed.

Yes, she's stayed in her pajamas all day.

She drives to the nail salon and waits for a few minutes before the tech calls her back. Smalltalk, hellos, and then she gets to the nails.

"So, what would you like today?" She asks, her name is Mel. She has a strong Chicago accent and Trina can tell she's been here most of her life, if not all of it.

She thinks for a moment and contorts her lips left and right, "Ah, I think I would just like some red. Bright red." She says, and continues, "Something sexy." in a playful and quiet tone.

The older woman winks at her and gathers her acrylic supplies, then gets out the red polish. "Do you have a date?" She asks, cleaning Trina's nails off from the last bit of polish she has.

"No...well, I don't think so." She replies and shrugs, "I have to keep up my appearance. Flight attendant's don't always have the easiest job when it comes to judgmental people."

"Ah, say no more." Mel says, seeming to understand. "My sister was a flight attendant," She starts explaining, except _sister _sounded like _sista, _"She was always worried about her appearance. Though, she was the skinniest little bitch in all of Chicago and she had every man she ever wanted." She says matter-of-factly and shrugs like it was nothing. "I was obviously always jealous of her."

Trina frowns and breaks her smile, "Well why? I'm sure you were just as beautiful?"

"Oh honey, don't trick yourself." Mel says and laughs, shaking her head.

Trina takes her free hand and digs through her purse, grabbing a cigarette and slipping it through her lips, lighting it up after Mel's head was down. She'd always felt bad about it, but another nail tech once told her that no one really minds it, so now Trina doesn't think twice.

She huffs on it a bit and talks with it in the side of her lips, "I'm not tricking." She says and looks up and away at all the women in here.

The stupid thing about this _"horny little adventure" _\- in her words from last night – with Tom, is that she can't stop wondering if she knows anybody that he's screwed. Other than Patty. She knows that Patty's been in bed with him, too. She just wishes she could forget about him, but the hickey's going down her chest that she sees every time she's in the shower quickly reminds her that he's been a part of her that she just won't be able to forget.

"Alright, are you gettin' over a breakup, doll?" Mel asks, studying Tri's nails as she starts the acrylics. "You're awful quiet over there."

It pulls her from her studying of the other women, and she takes a huff of her cigarette again, letting it go and laying her cheek over on her shoulder, "I suppose you could say it was a breakup. We were never exactly together."

"Flight attendants are known for _that _too."

"That?" Trina asks, taken aback by her rude comment. Though it was true.

Mel looks up just long enough to give her an unamused expression. "C'mon, sweetie, they're well known for it. It's not like I haven't slept around either. Tell me, get it off your chest."

"You're a complete stranger." Trina answers, laughing a bit and shaking her head. "I can't just tell my new nail tech about my-" She stops herself from using the term _horny adventures. _She also makes a mental note that she needs to stop calling it that in her mind, so it won't accidentally come out at another time. "About my night life."

"Fine, think of me as that idiotic aunt that no one really likes but can help you anyway?" She answers, shrugging as the smell of the nails is beginning to come up.

Trina rolls her eyes and looks back down at her nails. "Yeah, we...have been together...twice. And last night I asked him how many other women he said all the lovey shit to and he just...never gave me a straight answer. He says he hasn't done it with anyone since our first time but...he has a freaking reputation." Trina says, letting all her upset feelings come out on this poor woman. "I mean, what was I thinking anyway? Everyone even told me that he has a reputation. I should've known not to get involved with a coworker and...a guy that has that reputation. But I did and now I can't get the bastard out of my head."

She's pretty sure Mel was shocked by her language, but she didn't act like she minded. She just wasn't expecting it from someone in such petite and nice form. "Well, maybe you don't need to get him out of your head. Be friends with him. Date him a little and see, then, if he's with other women. You'll be able to find out."

She sighs and looks down, shrugging and wishing the conversation would end. "Yeah." She replies, pursing her lips and biting the bottom one, getting red lipstick on the back of her teeth.

But, again, her mind won't stop thinking and this woman does want to help. "He gave me clams. I hate clams. It was a clambake on the beach and-"

"Tom Decker? That's who you're with?" Mel asks in surprise, "Oh honey, you don't want to mess with him. No. Besides, clams are aphrodisiacs. They turn your sex drive up."

Trina sighs and purses her lips again, "Well, it doesn't surprise me. How do you know him?"

"He's my son." She says and frowns, "Hate to admit it sometimes just because he f's with so many poor girls."

She chuckles at the way she says it. He does "f" with a bunch of girls, including her. "Yeah..." She says and sighs, "I guess aviation is just in your family then, huh?"

She nods and lets her the liquid on her nails dry. "Yeah, guess so." She says and shrugs.

Most of the time spent, now, was in silence. It was kind of awkward in some points, but Trina did at least forget a while about Tom. When she finishes, she only charges half price. But Trina knew it was supposed to be more, so she gave her a "tip" to make up for the rest of it, adding, "Just because you're his mom, doesn't mean I have any resentment toward you." and shrugs, holding her hand up and looking at her nails, "I mean, you gave me this beautiful set of nails so...I can't be mad at you." She says and chuckles while Mel nods.

"I suppose you're very right. Just...don't get caught up with him. He'll break your heart."

_He already has._


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi all!**

**Let me know how you like this chapter, please! I'm sorry it's taken sooooo ridiculously long to update but I also write a story called "Disappeared" and got really hooked on that for a while, then I got new glasses and couldn't see a thing with them. Glasses are all I wear at night, night is when I do my computer stuff, so therefore...I couldn't see. **

**Sorry!**

**To sort of make up for my absence, here's a fun fact:**

**In the story, the year Trina was born in is the year 1950. This is set in the year 1971, only five short years before what we see on the show! **

**Enjoy!**

**G.**

**..**

**...**

"Captain Decker." She simply says, to the point and snippy while handing over his coffee mug.

As soon as he takes it from her hand, she turns on her heel and exits the small cockpit and back out into the pantry part where Patty stands. She doesn't want to give him the chance, even to speak. Still.

She studies her nails quietly, the room definitely has that so-called _elephant _in it, and she sighs quietly. She's already chipped one of her nails after only a week of having them on (due to a pesky customer on the flight needing help with a bottle top). But it's one more excuse to go talk to Mel again, which is always a good thing. The only problem is – she doesn't have any time to unless it's after work (6:00, usually) and the nail shop closes at 6:00. She's hoping she can possibly guilt Mel into staying just fifteen minutes later so she can just fill her nail in, because she knows she'll have this hectic schedule for at least another week.

"Red?" Patty observes, looking at her nails. "A bit scandalous, don't you think?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.

Trina hates Patty, so far. She had the completely wrong observation of her when she first met the blonde. She thought she was polite and shy, but instead she's just silently judging you in her head all the time and then bitches about whatever she's stood in the corner and stewed over. "I am a bit scandalous, Patty." She counters in a tone that shows she's far less than amused.

Patty simply huffs and turns to grab a Coca-Cola while Trina walks out and into the stewardess' seats that face backward, pressed up against the cockpit. She looks at the couples on the plane and it sickens her. Completely sickens her. Some are holding hands, some have children. _That'll never be me, _she thinks in her head.

She's always had that mentality. The one that says she'll never get married, never have kids...and never have more of a relationship than just sex. Ever. That's what's torn her up this past week about what she said to Tom, now, because why did she blow up on him? All he wanted was sex and that's all she wanted too, she just didn't want him with other women and he didn't like that unless they turned their ordeal into an actual relationship.

Trina won't be controlled; if she doesn't want a relationship, she's not going to have one. And she doesn't want one, so she's not _going _to have one_. _

Among everything else going on in her life right now, she's saving up to buy a car. This job pays exuberantly more than her previous one did and she has more money that she can gather up out of each paycheck to put away and just keep. She's glad for that. It makes up for this bouge crew she has to work with.

She's looked at a few car lots, but most everyone wants to sell her something that she has to pay for months and months on. She doesn't want a car payment monthly, she wants a cash deal. And like usual, she'll get what she wants. "Or – there's always the alternative." They suggest, those sleazy, greasy car salesman, as they look down her body.

She has to refrain from slapping all of them.

**..**

…

Because of the wind and rainy conditions, the landing back in Chicago is the bumpiest she's ever experienced on a jet plane. It's ridiculous, and she was about to go in and yell at Tom. What good would that do, though, when it's because of the weather? (Still, she wanted to blame him).

When everyone has evacuated the plane and she's finished cleaning it all up with Patty, she gathers her things and is trying to rush out so she can call Mel and see if she can make an exception appointment.

Until a hand wraps around her arm and catches her from exiting the airport.

She huffs, and after a second she states, "Tom, I'm not-"

"It's not Tom." A voice says, one that she recognizes well. "It's Rex." _Ahh, the co-pilot._ "I just wanted to catch you before you left." He says and sighs, "I, ah, wanted to know if you maybe wanted to meet up for dinner or something tonight?"

"Dinner?" She asks, turning around and actually taking a moment to consider it before she just tells this stunning man in front of her a hasty yes. _The very handsome co-pilot._ "A nice dinner?"

He nods, and her smirk creeps up. "And I'm just saying, I have much less than good intentions with you afterward." He says and it makes her smile grow, her teeth trying to keep her lips under control by biting down on them.

Maybe this is what she needs. Maybe she needs a good way to get over Tom. And what's better than a night in bed, all hot and sweaty and tangled together, with this beautifully carved man standing in front of her? "Maybe we'll just skip dinner and get straight to the fun part?" She flirts, knowing she needs to say something or he may think she's uninterested.

His grin is smug as he nods, "Well just maybe." He says, smiling fully. "I'll pick you up at seven?"

She nods, gives him the directions to her apartment, then grabs her little rolling bag that she takes on the planes with her and rolls it out into the parking lot to catch a cab.

Once she's in, she takes her shoes off and leans against the back of the seat. "Where to, young lady?" The cabbie asks.

"Home," She breathes, sitting up straight and telling him where exactly home is.

**..**

…

Red dress, low cleavage; black dress, off the shoulder and tight, down to the floor; royal blue dress, sparkly (not enough to look like a hooker), halter top, low cleavage.

So many decisions.

She's holding each one up to her body in front of the mirror, trying to decide. She hasn't been this unnerved about a date in a while – since her first real date with Luke.

That night was perfect. She had just gotten her hair permed (thanks to her mother, who at the time she wasn't thrilled about going with to the hair salon), and she'd also just gotten a new dress. She was only sixteen, and the dress spent most of it's time that night in the floor of his Chevy. That was a good, first official date.

_Maybe I should just wear the one that's easiest to get off?_ She finally thinks to herself, remembering what Rex had said about "less than good intentions afterward".

She's decided on the red dress. It's not tight, it's perfect amount of cleavage will have him wanting her through the whole dinner, and she has a new pair of heels she hasn't hardly worn that'll go perfectly with the attire.

By the time she's finished playing dress-up, fixing her make up (only for it to be messed up a little while later).

**..**

…

He's picked her up like he said (at 6:55...punctual), they've eaten dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in Chicago, and now they're heading somewhere. She's not real sure where, though, until he speaks up.

Rex speaks up as they're approaching the road to go to Trina's apartment complex, stating, "Well, my apartment has a king size bed...does your have a queen?"

She looks over, her lips parted slightly before she bites her lower one to try and hide a smirk, "It's a king." She says, "Besides, I didn't pack my uniform." She shrugs and finally lets her smirk show.

He matches her expression, winking at her quickly and nodding before turning onto her road. "I didn't know if you...like...kept condoms around so I brought some." He says, shrugging.

She finds it a little odd...he's not doing so well at getting her horny if that's what he's trying to do. This wasn't working at _all._ She's not completely sure what to say, but she makes an awkward attempt at a reply, "I keep some in my bathroom cabinet." then looks forward as he pulls into the parking spot.

She waits a moment for him to come open her door, then after a few seconds she steps out, feeling a bit unwanted by him. Once he realizes he didn't open the door for her he apologizes, but it still leaves a bit of a sore spot in Trina's mind.

Inside her apartment on the second floor, they're already kissing, grabbing, groping – so heatedly, too, that her head has already slammed into the wall and his tongue was down her throat in the elevator.

She's not sure how it got this far, but she doesn't really care. It only crosses her mind once before he hikes her up onto his waist and presses her body against the wall. She's trying to speak, trying to gather her thoughts to speak. She can only breathe out, "R-Rex, next door..." so that he'll hopefully take them to the bedroom. Though, he doesn't get the hint until she moves her arm to tap that way against the wall.

He stumbles around like an overly drunken man to the bed – though they only had a few drinks; he must not take alcohol very well. When his knees hit the mattress, he bends over in a falling manner and she slams on the bed, her legs still wrapped tightly around his thighs.

Clothes are being ripped off. It's not romantic in the slightest, but it's hungry and desperate. He feels hungrier than her, but it's his aura that's rubbing off on Trina and making her just as fierce.

They've made an un-discussed, mutual decision to forget the condom. He knows what to do, and so does she...(murder him if he doesn't pull out). The reason they've skipped that step is because his cock his already rubbing against her folds, making her moan and squirm underneath him and on top of the comforter.

Her fingernails scrape slowly down his muscular back, making him shudder and bend at the small of his back, moving into her more. She closes her eyes as he puts more weight on her, unwrapping her legs around him and straddling them wide. The only reason she opens her eyes again is because she feels his fingers making slick noises on the way to being inside of her.

And _oh, _does only his fingers feel good.

She grabs onto the back of his neck and arches her back, her breasts growing closer to his face and her nipples hardening into little buds. "Damnit." She hisses, clenching her eyes shut and biting down hard on her lip. She regrets the lip thing, though, because she's almost positive it'll leave a nasty little bruise for tomorrow.

"You feel so good." He whispers, his breathing becoming heavier. She feels like she's being touched by a complete animal, and hell, maybe she is being touched by a complete animal. Hopefully he fucks like one, too.

Reaching between them to find his erection, she grabs it and gently strokes the tip with her thumb. "Oh do I?" She whispers back to him, opening one eye before letting out an unexpected moan when he adds a third finger inside of her. "Damn, Rex..." She murmurs under her breath, clenching that eye shut again before she curls her toes up and feels her stomach churning.

The heat that's becoming hotter and hotter in her stomach is making her desperate for a release. She brings her other hand down between them, laying her middle and index finger on her clit and rubbing in small circles. Shortly, she was crying out in pleasure after receiving that wonderful, beautiful release, "_Ah!_"

Rex shifts on top of her, moving so that he can take both of her thighs and rest his hands on them. She moans a little as her stomach contracts – no, every muscle in her body contracts – and he's already positioning himself to slide inside of her.

She holds him back, pressing her hand against his chest. "Wait a moment, Rex." She breathes out, still completely breathless from the high she was just on.

He's inexperienced. Maybe not as inexperienced as Luke was their first time, but most certainly not as experienced as Tom. And she's regretting not asking him how much he's had, just because she's hoping she's not going to be sore from him hurting her. Hopefully he knows how to actually fuck.

When she takes her hand away again, he wastes no time in sliding inside of her. He waits, thankfully, and waits for her okay to start. It takes her a moment, not necessarily because she's trying to adjust, but more because she's still trying to calm her breathing from the way his fingers made her feel. Finally, when she gives him the okay, he starts moving in and out of her.

Slow, smooth, and slick..._fuck. _He's better than she expected him to be, and he's already deep enough to find that spot. Already attempting to find it, and damn does it feel good. "Faster, Rex..." She whispers, realizing how hard it actually is to say his name without whispering it. Her heart is racing and her mind is swirling with beautiful afterglow of an orgasm – thanks to his fingers – and she can't hardly focus to even open her eyes.

He takes his order well, moving faster in and out of her. He's not being rough, he's being gentle but it feels like he's pounding that spot like a drumstick to a snare, making her whole body rattle and jolt. "Fuck..." She hisses, digging the top of her head into the bed underneath her.

She grabs onto her calves, pulling her legs back that were wanting to close on him due to the buildup of another orgasm, gritting her teeth as it rushes over her and she falls limp to the bed for the second time in only a short while.

This will be a great night. She can tell already.

**..**

…

Saturday comes and Trina is at work, bright and early, 6:30 AM – like always. Even if she does have a hangover and still have sex legs from the way Rex took her so many times last night. She keeps thinking, on the way there, that she should've recorded it and showed it to Tom, just for spite. For kicks, maybe. Then she thinks maybe that would take it too far...but maybe not. Maybe Rex can come back for some play time tonight – maybe tomorrow – and the recorder can come out then.

Maybe.

The cabbie takes her money she owes him, and she grabs her rolling bag that she takes with her onto the plane and goes into the airport to report for duty.

Her eyes spot him immediately, standing right there at the door, just _waiting _for her. He's leaned up against it like Luke used to do on the lockers or on the side of his '57, crossing his arms and looking..._cool_. She scoffs and rolls her eyes at that, annoyed with her own thoughts. Tom Decker is the opposite of _cool_.

"Trina." He says when she makes it to the door, even though she wished so strongly that there was another entrance for the flight crew (maybe she'll put that one in at the next meeting). "This...this ignoring thing isn't working." Tom says, reaching out for her arm.

She stops when he has his fingers around her bicep, looking down in disgust at his hand. She sets her bag down on the ground and brushes his hand off with her free hand, slowly looking up into his eyes. "Get your hands _off_." She hisses in his face, close enough to smell what he's had for breakfast – eggs. "Don't talk to me, either. We are strictly only members of the same crew, even if that is an unfortunate thing." She grumbles while retrieving her bag from the ground, standing up straight and fixing her tight skirt.

But he's consistent, insisting on talking to her, so he grabs her forearm this time. "Tri, please. I want to make it up to you."

"Tom, I am hungover and ridiculously tired. It's 6:25 in the morning and if you don't let me go, I'm going to be late." She finally snaps, giving him the meanest look ever (one she most certainly learned from her mother). "Let...me..._go..._"

She can see his struggle to make a decision, to tell whether she's really mad or not. Since he can't decide, she looks down and spits on his shiny, black shoe. "I told you to let me go." She says in a lower tone, one that has a bit of a ring of 'murderer' to it.

He immediately huffs out of anger, looking down at his shoe that has a nice little spot of saliva on it, thanks to her.

Through his frustration with her, though, she can't help but smirk and comment again, "I'm the one who brings you your coffee every day. You may not want to make enemies out of me, _Captain._" And once again, she takes her strides to the door with pride, with not one bit of humility for him, and with her chin up in the air like she's just won a battle.

Maybe she has, theoretically. This one may be small, in reality, but in her mind she's won a battle that's been going on ever since that night on the beach in the shack – full of clams.

As she walks in on the bright red carpet, her heel gets stuck in one of the threads and she has to stop, just in time for Tom to be walking by. He gives her a look, but keeps walking past her. "Karma." He murmurs, smirking as he walks away.

Maybe she didn't win.

As she boards the plane later that day, she ignores him completely. She even asks Patty to go take Tom his coffee (something that only _she _does), giving the excuse that she had a pesky customer on the flight. She would slink off when the coffee maker was hot and ready, then come back once she heard the cab door shut.

As they were preparing the food, Patty clears her throat. "So how was Rex?"

"Rex?" Trina asks, getting caught slightly off-guard. She hadn't told anyone about Rex at all, not even Tom (as much as she wanted to rub it in his face, she didn't. Yet). "Have you been experimenting with those damn marijuana brownies again, Patty? You're gonna kill yourself like that. That's bad shit, Patty."

She rolls her eyes, "Not lately, thank you." She snips back at the brunette, looking up from the food momentarily. "Tom doesn't leave hickies on his women and I had a hickey from Rex for a damn week. Same spot as yours, too."

Trina's hand comes up to her neck, her fingers gently tracing her skin as a confused expression falls on her face. Patty shakes her head and goes back to the food, "Try looking on the backside of your neck. He's good at fucking from behind." She smirks, winks, and leaves with a food cart.

Leaves with a food cart, but also leaves with Trina steaming. She can't believe she wouldn't tell her before now, she's been working all day and Patty never said anything. Even Rex could've had the decency to say something about his idiotic little marks.

Begrudgingly and hoping she won't get randomly caught by any of the bosses, she grabs a scarf from her bag that she wears when she rides her bike, wrapping it around her neck and tucking it in her shirt collar a little so it looks more like it was supposed to be there.

At least it matches.

..

...

**Don't forget to leave a review, please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello all! It's been exactly a month since I updated lol. I'm super sorry that I always take so long on this story but life gets in the way too, too much. A lot has happened for the better in this past month! So I'm happy lol. **

**Anyway, this chapter is about three thousand words ****_longer _****than usual because:**

**1\. I love you all**

**2\. The response on this story has been so great that I've decided to put more work into it**

**3\. I kinda got carried away :P**

**I hope you enjoy it! Oh and it's not safe for work lol. Just an FYI :)**

**G.**

**..**

**...**

"...and then she says, _Oh, he's good at_...'" she pauses for a second and shrugs a little, "You know, _from behind_. The audacity." She complains to Mel as the older woman is finishing her nails, getting them in a deep purple for more of a fall color. She didn't want sexy and scandalous, not this time. "I worked all day with her _and _the guy, and no one had the decency to tell me I had a big hickey on the back of my neck."

She was still extremely embarrassed about it. Her job, though she originally took it for unprofessional reasons, is something she takes very seriously. She loves her job, even if she doesn't necessarily like the imbeciles she works with. The hickey was completely unprofessional of her, and she just wondered how many people on the flight reported her for indecency or something stupid like that.

Mel clears her throat a bit as she smooths out the acrylic, the step before polish, "I wish I could've helped, sweetheart. I could've, if I would've raised my son to be nicer to women..." She shakes her head and keeps it down, focusing on the nails she's working on.

"It wasn't even Tom's fault." Trina says in defense of her captain, though she's still ticked at him too. "He was flying the plane, probably never even saw the back of my neck. I don't know. Even if he did..." She shakes her head and sighs, "Still. It's just, I though I could at least trust Patty and Rex to tell me when I have a hickey." She gripes.

Mel nods in agreement, "I understand, honey." She says, clearing her throat again. She looks up and takes a deep, heavy breath and starts to speak into Trina's eyes this time, "Tom...little Tommy isn't a bad guy. He just...treats his women like shit because he thinks he needs to. He was around his dad too much growing up." She shrugs and furrows her brows, "He's got a sweet heart, just like you. You just have to peel back those hard, Chicago, crusty layers of him to find that sweetened heart. He thinks-"

"He thinks sex is the way for everything. And yeah, I may agree with him for some of it but sometimes it's...I mean, if you were in my position, would you have wanted him to still be sleeping with other women?" Trina interrupts and asks, raising a sly brow.

Mel purses her lips and takes the polish in her hand, opening it and preparing the brush to be used, "I wouldn't have gotten myself in your position." She says, and Trina is taken aback slightly.

Was she calling her a slut? Was she insulting her was she being honest? It hurt her a little, because again, her trust was broken.

She shakes her head with the frown still being worn on her face, "What do you mean?" She asks as the woman starts with her index finger.

After a moment, Mel stops and looks up. "I wasn't exactly the best girl at your age either, honey, but...you got yourself in that position. You wanted the sex, not the love first." She shrugs and shakes her head, "And that's honesty. To me, I don't see you as a slutty type but in order to get Tom, that's what you have to be. Because he won't take the bait for love." She admits, frowning deeply at the words she just had to speak.

Trina looks away and over her shoulder slightly, staying silent the rest of the way. Maybe it brought her down off her high horse about Patty and Rex a little, but it kind of stomped her in the ground about her nightlife. Maybe she was right, but she wasn't about to admit that to herself.

After the set of nails is polished and made to shine, they both stand up. Mel clears her throat. "Free of charge today, only if you promise me that you'll get it together a little." She says, swallowing thickly and looking Trina in the eyes as she walks over the register.

Trina frowns, "Get it together?"

"As in, stop messing around with men who'll break your heart, honey. They're no good." She clarifies, and Trina frowns again, about to speak. Mel stops her by putting her hand on her wrist, "I'm serious. I know I really have no place to tell you that, other than the place of experience. Okay?"

At first, Trina wants to lose it and cuss this woman out. She _does _have no right, she's completely and totally correct. But...maybe she's just the person she needed. Maybe she's the messenger that she won't kill. "Okay." She chokes out, looking down and carefully digging through her wallet to get a twenty. "I'm still paying you, and if you won't take it for the nails, take it for a tip." She says, giving the woman a look and then closing her wallet and sticking it back into her purse.

She clears her throat again and sighs, "Did Tom tell you to tell me to stop, or was it all you, Mel?" She asks.

The older woman swallows hard, biting her lip. "Maybe that's a question for him, sweetie." She says, smiling sadly and sighing. "I have more customers, I'll keep an ear out for your next appointment okay? Be careful up there in those skies." She smiles sadly and nods, turning to go back to her station and start on another client.

It makes Trina smile – the thought of someone actually caring about her, for her. It made her happy inside and she nodded as a thank you before leaving. Leaving Mel, only to go see her son.

**..**

…

"Tom." She says quietly, walking closer to the payphone and taking a deep breath before she starts speaking again, "It's Trina...I just-"

"Are you okay?" He asks immediately, cutting her sentence short.

Under usual circumstances, she'd be beyond livid if any human being cut her off like that. That fiery Latina side from her father and the hot Italian blood would boil, but this time it made her heart warm and swell with happiness. He cares. He actually, really cares. Just like Mel. Well, maybe not as much as Mel. But he cares. "Yes, yes...I'm fine. I was just...hoping we could maybe talk?" She breathes out, a bit of a smile on her lips as she tries to hide it by biting her lower one, but her stomach is flipping.

"Talk?"

"Talk." _Talk, Tom. Talk. It's not that hard, _Trina thinks to herself before clearing her throat and starting again, "I left things badly in that shack on the beach and I don't want it to be between us. We still fly on the same crew – every day, every hour we spend together is uncomfortable because there's things that were left unsaid between us. And yes, before you ask, I did talk to your mother. So I know you have a little bit of care for me in you, so please don't blow this off." It all tumbles out, and she widens her eyes in the reflection of the metal on the booth. She didn't mean to let that all spew like she did...but it's too late to take it back now.

He answers after a short, silent moment, "Come to my apartment." He says, then tells her the directions so that she can get there.

The whole time he's speaking to her, she's writing it down but it's not really sinking in. She's not listening to the words he's speaking, she's listening to how tired and dead-sounding he is. It makes her wonder why, but she decides to not ask. They're not in a relationship. They're barely even friends, right now. She has no place in his business. "Thank you, I'll be there as soon as I can get a cab." She replies at the end of his directions.

She hangs up, grabs her purse from between her feet, then turns and catches a cab almost immediately (which is very rare for her). Maybe, just maybe, she was really supposed to go there today. Maybe it was really just...fate. _Nah. _

Once she's arrived and paid the cab fair, she sneers as she stands in front of his apartment. _Apartment _is used loosely. Her apartment isn't a dump, but it's a dump compared to this place. And _ooh, _will he get it for not telling her he lives in a place like this. (But then again, why would he need to tell her? They're not in a relationship. And no, she doesn't want to be. They're worthless).

She steps up to his door finally after huffing a big and heavy breath out, rolling her eyes a bit and knocks. He answers only seconds later, smiling tiredly. "Come in." He says, yawning a bit and moving out of the way as he holds the door for her to step in.

Doing what he says, she steps in and looks around instinctively. It makes her feel nosey, but she can't take her eyes off the beautiful structure of this apartment.

It's not luxurious, no, but it's just what she's dreamed of. Brick walls, windows upon windows for natural lighting, an iron staircase. It's a two-room deal, meaning it has a living room, kitchen, and small table in one room, and a bathroom and bed in the other room. It's not big, it's not overboard – it's perfe- no. She can't be falling for his apartment right now.

She sits, he sits across from her, and she sets her purse down beside her as she looks at him. "Tom." She says, a bit of coldness in her voice.

"Trina..." He replies, taking a deep breath.

A moment of silence again, just like the silence that came after her spewing all that "you care" stuff at him. Then, all at once, they speak. "I-" and they stop, and one looks at the other for them to speak, and they both speak again, "I-"

It results in a smile on both of their faces, and Trina finally gets her words out first, "I came to say that I'm sort of sorry for how I treated you. But...I also came-"

"For an apology from me, which is what you get. I'm sorry too, Trina." He says, clearing his throat and looking down guiltily. He's sitting with his feet parted and his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he hangs his head down between his shoulders. "That night wasn't exactly a banner night for me, really. It shouldn't have mattered, but _damn_ I was being a turkey. A drunk turkey." He admits, and it makes her snicker quietly.

"A turkey? That's the word you choose in this?" She asks, smirking a little bit as he looks up at her with a bit of a crooked, goofy smile.

He shakes his head as his smile grows, "A turkey, Tri. Like, a jerk." He explains.

"I know, I know." She replies, laughing and shaking her head, "It's just...a drunk turkey sounds..."

"Okay, fine..._damn _I was being a _jerk_. Better?"

"Better." She nods, becoming serious. Though her serious face was trying to be held, that laugh was trying to come back out.

He sighs and rolls his eyes with a bit of a smirk again, looking back down and returning to his original position. He clears his throat before speaking, "And yeah, I shouldn't have kept pushing a relationship. But...with you jumping all over me for having sex with other women – which I hadn't done, thank you for the false accusation – it just made me go too far."

"Yes, it did." She says, a bit of saltiness in her tone. She looks away for a moment, stares out the window. The sun is setting, and she can only think about the sunset on the beach that day when they were drinking and having a good time instead of working things out between each other. "I don't do _relationships, _Tom. If I'm sleeping with someone consistently, they're my lover. They're not my boyfriend. Or my fiance. Or my husband. None of the above. I-"

"Why?" He interrupts, this time it makes her fiery side want to flare, but she ignores it.

She sighs, looking back at him, "I just don't. Maybe, _maybe _one day you'll learn why but not right now. I don't tell anyone why I don't make relationships and you're not an exception. I'm sorry, but I just don't." When she sees the confusion on his face, the little bit of hurt, she softens her expression and loosens her body up a little to not seem like she's coming off like such an ass. "No one knows but me, Tom. It's not that I don't like you – I do, but as a friend. And as a lover."

Silence again. _Damn it. _The silence is driving her insane, and she just wants this over with. Fate, again, turned out to just be tricking her.

He clears his throat, nodding, "If that's the way you feel." He says, "I can't be just lovers. I'll be your friend."

"No sex?" She asks, raising her brow.

He shrugs, and she almost wonders now if he's punishing her. "No sex. I mean, I don't _cheat_ on women. I sleep with one at a time, just like you sleep with one man at a time. So...no. No sex."

She grits her teeth together, wanting to say something back, but decides to leave it and nod. They're friends. That's better than how they were earlier today when she was badmouthing him to his mother. "Okay." She says, raising her brows. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Wait, you don't wanna stay for dinner or anything? I already have it on the stove."

"You cook?" She scoffs a laugh, smirking. "Are you sure you're of the male species?" She teases lightheartedly, trying to forget the soreness she has with him – still.

He gives her a look back, rolling his eyes, "This is the 1970's and being a single man doesn't help. Even if I did have a girl, she probably wouldn't cook for me thanks too all this women's rights stuff." He says, giving her a sly expression and standing. "Come on, just stay for dinner. No strings attached." He shrugs, putting his hands in the pockets of his bright yellow shorts.

She sighs and swallows thickly, shifting uncomfortably in her seat and looking up at him with only her eyes, "Okay." She says, "No strings attached."

**..**

…

Domesticity has never really been her thing, but she feels the want to help Tom cook. He's not a bad chef, but she just thinks it would be a nice gesture to jump in and help. So, that's what she does. They decide together on spaghetti with Tom's special sauce that he makes, and Trina works on simply boiling the pasta and making a salad for the two of them to share as he works continuously at the stove, keeps stirring the sauce and adding a little bit here and there of certain things. The things she's seen him put in seem random, but she's confident in him.

"Spaghetti is ready when you are." She announces, setting the pot of hot spaghetti noodles on a pot rag in the center of the table. She's set it with plates and forks and two bowls for their salads. Once she does that, she finishes their salads by putting a little bit of cheddar cheese on the top. "Ranch dressing?" She asks, looking at all of his dressings in the refrigerator door.

He nods softly, turning the burner off and grabbing a mitt to grab the hot pan with, "Sounds good." He replies, bringing the pan to the tabe and grabbing the serving spoon to stir it one last time. He sets the spoon in the pan, resting the handle on the side, then grabs two glasses. "Wine?" He asks, and when she nods, he asks again, "Red wine?"

"Is there any other kind?" She teases, smirking a little as she gets the napkins and sets them out nicely on the table.

His smirk is invisible to her while she has her head down, smoothing her skirt out beneath her so she can sit down in the chair. He pours the two glasses, and sits down across from her. "Thank you for coming over, and for staying, Trina." He says.

She looks up when she hears her name used the correct way, smiling a tiny bit and nodding. "I wanted to set things right." She says, clearing her throat. "I mean really, you should thank Mel." She shrugs and looks down, dipping some salad from the larger bowl into her bowl and smothering it in dressing. "She's looking out for me for some reason." She says, giving a small shrug again.

He sighs, looking down as he scrapes the remainder of salad into his bowl, "That's because she's just a caring person. She's always done that, been real motherly to girls." He shrugs and sighs again, pouring dressing onto his now. "She was like you, you know."

"Like me?"

"Like you." He answers, clearing his throat as he takes a bite of salad for the first time. "She was a hooker, walked the streets at night and that's how I came up." He says, looking up and raising his brows. "I stayed with my dad a lot, because she was real unstable until I was about thirteen and then she suddenly cleaned up and became a better parent to me than my dad had ever been. I finished out my teenage years with her mostly, staying the summers with my dad, and when he died when I was nineteen, I moved out and became a pilot." He shrugs, sighing and looking down into his salad bowl for a silent moment. "Mom has been through a lot. And she doesn't want you goin' down the same path, I guess."

"I'm not a hooker." Trina corrects, slightly offended again like she was with Mel earlier.

He looks back up, "I know you're not a hooker, in that term exactly. But you said it yourself, Trina...you sleep with a lot of different people. You can get messed up bad doin' that." He says sadly, "She doesn't want that and I don't either..."

"You care?" She scoffs, rolling her eyes back down into her salad, taking another bite – it's gone mostly untouched as she was somewhat frozen while listening to him explain his mother's past. "If you cared, you would've told me about my little _love mark _the other day on that flight." She says, still bitter about that.

"Love mark?" He asks, frowning and furrowing his brow.

She nods, "Like you didn't see it..." She murmurs, now downing the salad like it's going to run out from under her soon.

"I didn't, actually. Was it the day I was sick?"

"You've been there each day I have, Tom."

"That doesn't mean I paid any attention..."

She sits back in her chair. She's not sure whether she's annoyed because she thinks he may be lying, or if she's annoyed because he didn't pay attention to her, or if she's annoyed just...because it's Tom. She extends her arm to reach for the wine, taking it in her hand and tipping it back to her mouth. Her eyes never leave him, she's staring him down to see if he sweats. He sweats when he lies. After a moment, she clears her throat and sets the glass back down on the table, "Okay, you may have a point." She states, "But I still don't believe you care..."

"Well, maybe it's time for you to just open your eyes and see that someone actually cares a little bit about you, Trina. We don't wanna see you hurt." He states, making her sink in her chair again.

_Sit up straight, Trina. _Her mother's voice plays in the back of her mind, and she realizes that, yes, maybe they do care about her. That, yes, maybe she should be a little more open to caring people. And that, yes, maybe her mother wasn't a great person to her for not caring for her, but it doesn't mean that no one else can care for her. She's, again, humbled and put back in her place a bit. She's not liking this whole _humbling _thing. At all, really. "Okay, so maybe you care. Let's say you do. Then why didn't you try to talk to me first?"

"Because you probably would've just spit on my shoe like – oh! Like you did in the airport the other day?" He says sarcastically. "Ring a bell?"

She rolls her eyes, "You're hilarious." She states dryly, taking a bite out of her spaghetti now. "I had a good reason to. You wouldn't let go of my arm like I asked you to." With that, he seems to take a mental step back and humble himself a little. It makes Trina smirk a little, "Exactly. You know I'm right. You were wrong to hold onto me like that."

"Okay, but-"

"No buts." She grins a bit, biting her lip before taking another bite. "Just eat."

Surprisingly, he listens. _He's such an ass-kiss, _she thinks. But, hey, if it lets her get her way, she's okay with him ass-kissing. Perfectly fine with it.

**..**

…

After dinner was finished, he helped her clean the table up and do the dishes. She would wash, he would dry. It was a nice little operation until he smacked her playfully with the rag on the front of her thigh, and she gasps over-dramatically.

"You did not." She yawps, curling her face up into a nasty one towards him before grabbing her sponge and slapping it across the front of his shirt.

He looks down with furrowed brows, "Was that supposed to be threatening?" He teases, but keeps his voice in a serious tone that makes her even angrier.

Grabbing the sponge again, soaking it with water, she rings it out of the top of his head. She has to get on her tip-toes, but the water pours down into his hair and he wrinkles his clean-shaven face up as it runs down his skin. "Threatening enough for you?" She quips, turning back to her dishes and smiling to herself as she starts washing the last few pots and pans.

His face contorts again after he wipes his face mostly dry, then grabs her by her waist and pulls her back against his chest, grabbing the sponge straight from her hand. He smiles against the back of her bare neck before ringing it out in one hand, right into her cleavage. He holds her in one spot so it slowly, chillingly drips down her bosom and into her shirt. "Oh...you little bast-"

"Ah, ah, ah." He smirks, "Feel that? Feels good...doesn't it?" He whispers into her ear.

She cranes her head to look back at him, the wetness running down her shirt beginning to be nothing compared to the wetness between her thighs. "What are you doing?" She asks in a low tone, not _quite _husky enough to have a seductive aura to it, but close enough.

His hand slowly move to be able to turn her in his arms. She's feeling every move, feeling his breath begin to speed, feeling..._him _harden against her leg. Everything. "I'm just having a friendly hug." He excuses, biting his lip to stop himself from smiling, though it's a failed attempt. He smiles big anyway, still keeping his lip bit in between his teeth.

But his teeth let his lip loose in a hurry, because she's leaning in quickly for a passionate kiss. Her body rolls against his, her arms making their way up to wrap around the back of his neck, her eyes shutting in a desperate movement to feel him again. She never will admit it, probably, but she's missed his lips on hers, his tongue down her throat, and- _oh. _Oh, his cock rubbing against her thigh, making her clench her eyes shut and making her stomach flip in weird ways.

He makes her feel awkward, like the same teenager who was in love with that McPartlain boy, fucking way too often in his back seat. She feels like a virgin each time, feels anxious and clammy, not a pro like she should be. _This _is what she likes, maybe. The feeling of anticipation that's been gone for so long with every other man she's been with. _This _is it.

Her hands unlock from her forearms and she slides them across his back, up his shoulders with her fingernails, and rubbing them in circles on his neck. She stops only momentarily, then continues to move down with her nails – still – and up his shirt. She moves the soft material, just a plain tee shirt that he somehow looks great in. The simplicity of this man somehow turns her on.

Soon his shirt is up around his chest and her hands are roaming around to his lower back, making their way down his pants and sliding around the hem of them until they meet again in the front. Backing away from his lips, she smiles shyly as she works on the button of his shorts, slowly unzipping the fly and kissing down his chest. "Let's forget these past few weeks." She whispers between kisses, smirking as he seems to be frozen in place as she gently drags her fingernails across his length and his underwear. "Let's just have fun."

With that, he finally moves from his place and picks her up under her ass, lifting her to his hips in a smooth motion, and gently pressing her up against the wall. He kisses down _her _chest, now, whispering, "I thought you'd never ask."

She smiles a bit, but is too infatuated by his baby face kisses going down her cleavage and stopping at the beginning of her shirt each time. It makes her wish her shirt was off, and she swears he read her mind because he's lifting it up off of her skin, over her head, and throwing it _somewhere _behind him. "No longer need that." He whispers.

Sticking two fingers in the top of her lacy bra, he pulls down slowly and runs those same two fingers over an erect nipple. Trina moans out in appreciation, quietly but approvingly. "This is uncomfortable." She finally admits, the wall pinching the skin on her back as she sort of slides down it. Not two seconds later, he's lifting her away from the wall and reaching his hands behind her, unlatching her bra and letting it fall and gather up between their bodies. "Thank you." She whispers as she realizes he's keeping his hands there to make her more comfortable.

If she weren't so high on sexy thoughts, she'd think of how much of a gentleman he is just for doing that. But with him sucking on her nipple...no such thoughts were there.

"Tom..." She whispers, her head tilting back as her hips grind into his, biting her lip to stifle a moan. "Take me to your bed." It's something that _usually _doesn't happen for her – being taken to someone's bed in their own bedroom. Normal hook-ups, she's doing it in weird places or in hotel rooms. It's a nice feeling, it's that feeling of being a virgin yet again. "Please." She adds, and he lets go of her nipple with a loud _pop_ and looks up into her eyes with a crooked, sex-filled smile before nodding.

The transition from his downstairs living area to his upstairs sleeping area (or, tonight, sex area) is completely uncoordinated and definitely messy. He tripped up the stairs once, making her reach out for the railing and laughing huskily. "You're such a clutz."

"Only with you." He admits, his voice huskier than hers. It makes her smile re-appear bigger than before...he's got that weird feeling too. It's not a bad kind of weird, but that...weird and awkward feeling. She's not alone.

To make him feel a bit better, she runs her fingers through his hair and lifts herself up a little so that her breasts are up close to his face. "Are you nervous or something?" She asks, smiling shyly.

He makes it to the bed and lets her fall back gently onto it, climbing on top of her and keeping one knee on each side of her. He takes her arms and gently presses them above her head, looking into her eyes, "Only with you." He repeats, swallowing thick and licking his bottom lip a little as a smile slowly appears.

She grabs his cheeks softly and pulls him down to kiss her, rolling them over so that she's sitting on his hips again. She likes that feeling – him under her. "I'm on top tonight." She whispers, sucking both lips in as she gets a shy, schoolgirl expression on her face. "Just lie there and appreciate doing nothing."

It makes him smile, definitely, and his hands are roaming in places that make her eyes close out of natural motions. She jolts forward when he grabs her ass a little too hard, "Easy with the goods, Tom." She says quietly and calmly, smiling a little with her eyes still closed. She knows he's smiling, she heard his lips part. She peeks an eye open just to make sure, then leans down to kiss him and lay flat on top of him so that he can work her pants down her legs.

She's thankful that the pants go down easy without being unbuttoned, but she's also regretting not wearing anything nicer than just plain, white underwear. He liked that the last time, she's pretty sure.

"I like the underwear." He teases, smiling up at her as he smoothly runs his hands along her ass, using open palms just to show he's there.

She smiles and it comes out to be shier than she really meant for it to be, "They're plain."

"They're yours." He answers, "So they're automatically sexy and beautiful in a hundred different ways."

Again, if her mind wasn't clouded with sex, she would think that he's such an ass-kisser. But...

"You flatter me." She says, trying to come off more confident this time as she smiles, "Too much." She whispers, leaning down again to kiss him, her tongue sliding in and mingling nicely with his. Thankfully, he's sliding her underwear down her legs and she helps him by kicking them off, onto the floor.

His hands are roaming again, finding new things that he's once explored but just finding again. Gently parting her cheeks, sliding a finger in to feel how wet she is. The sloshing sound that comes from there makes her face blush, biting her lip again as he says, "You're wet."

"And here I thought you were Captain Decker, not Captain Obvious." She quips, swallowing thickly to try and hide her slight embarrassment.

He must see that redness in her cheeks, because he's gently pushing her curls back away from her forehead and running that same, free hand down her back. "I love it." He assures, smiling with his eyes. "It means you're excited for me."

She shouldn't be excited. She doesn't want to be excited. This should just be a...fling. But she can't stop her natural, bodily functions and tell them that, no, they should indeed not be excited for him. But deep down, she knows that she would beg for him if it came down to it. She just hasn't admitted that to herself yet.

She slides her tongue between her lips, deciding to not answer that and just start a new subject, "Enough foreplay..." She whispers, "I'm going to bust." She says, chuckling a little bit as she works his underwear down his legs between them. Again, it's awkward and messy, but they manage to get them off and onto the floor, on top of Trina's plain white ones.

As she sits on her knees, hovering over him, she rubs his cock gently. She doesn't want to be so harsh with him like she did that first time, she doesn't want to make this quick. She wants to make it last so she can come over and over and over and over. And over again. But..._no. Stop. He's just a fling..._

"That feels amazing." He mutters, his eyes rolling in the back of his head before he closes them, pushing his lips together tightly before moaning.

She brings a hand up to his face, tracing the corner of his lip with her index and middle finger, "Let it out." She whispers as she slowly positions him under her, gently sliding down onto his length. "Let all of it out..." She mutters, shutting her eyes as he finally fills her again.

It's been way too long.

His hands come up to rest in the curve of her hips, doing as she said and letting out a moan, "You...we...need to do this more often." He mumbles, peeking one eye open and smiling like she had just a few minutes before that.

She chuckles, closing her eyes and letting both hands rest on his chest, helping her move her body to push up and slide down on him. Her head falls back, moaning quietly as her fingers curl and her nails gently dig into his skin. She has to keep her mouth shut...she has a feeling she's about to say something that she doesn't need to say. _That she missed this. She missed this way too much._

Instead of speaking, she bites her lip and moves her hips in one big circle on him a few times, sliding her chest on his as she bends over and grinds on the tip of his cock. That was great, until he slipped out. She chuckles awkwardly when she sees him blush, and this is her chance, "You slipped out." She says, getting back at him for his statement of _you're wet._

It brings a goofy smile to his lips and he nods, "I did indeed." He admits and slides his hand under them to help her slide back onto him. They moan in unison, Trina grabbing onto his shoulders as she clenches her eyes shut, sliding all the way down on him.

"Oh..." She grunts, rolling her hips so his tip just keeps rolling over that amazing, beautiful, _wonderful_ little spot inside of her that so many men fail to find. "That feels so good." She whispers, moaning again as her upper body gets a little bit limp, feeling the ball of heat in her lower belly, and then clenching around his cock so tight that it makes both of their bodies jolt.

She's hit her high so quickly, and _oh __**shit**_**, **_he has too. Inside of her. _She pulls up and off quickly, sliding over to the side of him. "I'm sorry, Tri...holy shit I didn't mean to bust that quick..." He says nervously, rubbing his head as he sits up awkwardly and slowly.

But no, that's not even her problem. Yeah, she wanted some more of him tonight, but that's not happening now. I mean, she let the condom slide simply because she's let it slide with him before. But...no. "You could've warned me." She whispers, somewhat hurt that he didn't.

Why is she hurt?_ Damn it, Trina...stop. He didn't mean to. _And he clarifies that by telling her so, "I didn't mean to, Tri..." He says sadly, crawling over to her and wrapping her in a sheet like a perfect gentleman. "Hey...I'm really sorry." He says, close to her cheek now as his arms are wrapped around her as well, "Please...please just stay the night with me tonight." He asks, high hopes that she's not mad.

And she's not really mad...just...that ball of worry is there. Every time she feels one more drip of him onto her thigh, it makes her worry. "You're not the one who would have to worry about a baby, just because someone didn't pull out." She says bitterly, returning back to her cold self as before. "But because you didn't mean it," She starts, closing her eyes and swallowing hard, "I'll stay."

She means it, but she feels scared and nervous. She's had this happen once before, once with Luke. Her senior year, she thought she was pregnant and she knew there was a possibility. Come to find out, she was. But the baby didn't make it, and her mom beat her ass as soon as she got home from the hospital after the miscarriage. It's burned in her memory forever, and she's always been cautious.

"I really am sorry, Tri." He says again, and she hears the nerves in his voice. She opens her eyes and takes a shaky breath.

Her voice, she knows, is filled with nerves, too, as she says, "It's okay." and lays down, wrapped up in the sheet as he pulls the blanket over the both of them and lies down beside her.

So much for no strings attached.

..

...

**Oi vei. Trina needs a lesson from the Mean Girls sex-ed teacher: "Don't have sex. You will get pregnant and die."**

**Bahahahaha. **

**Make sure to review the crappppp outta this please because I adore your beautiful words about this story :) And if anyone has any constructive criticism (meaning, DON'T BE SO RUDE! Lol) feel free to comment it! What you do like, what you don't like...anything and everything. Because I love you. And if you love me too, then you'll leave your wonderful words ;)**

**Okay I'm done. Excuse me...it's past my bedtime.**

**G.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Yay! A quicker chapter update :P We're getting deeper into the story, though, and I'm really super happy about that. So...enjoy!  
**...

...

She's tucking her hair behind her ear with her free hand, the other using a spare (never used, of course) tooth brush that Tom had. She can feel him watching her, so she looks over a little with a mouth full of toothpaste suds and a head of crazy hair from the night before. "What?" She asks, the toothbrush still in her mouth and the noise coming out as a bit of a gargle.

He waits a while before speaking, keeping a goofy smile the whole time from the bed, "Nothing, I guess." He says, shrugging his shoulders upward and brushing it off.

She turns, smiles, and continues to brush her teeth.

Once she's all finished and dressed again, she tries her best to fix her hair and then puts her shoes on. "It's a good thing today is a day off." She says, scratching her nails gently over her brow, looking down shyly. That feeling of shyness hasn't ever gone away, still, from last night. She can't explain the reason why he makes her heart beat funny and her mouth feel dry, but he does. And she's not completely sure she likes it. She's not sure of anything other than the fact that she better keep a close eye on things so she can make sure she's not pregnant. She can't have that.

"True." He says, pulling a fresh tee over his head and standing up with his pants already on. "You wanna grab some lunch or something?" He asks, running his fingers through his hair to un-knot it from the shower this morning.

She doesn't want to hurt him, but she's felt sick to her stomach due to the fact that he _could have _just impregnated her last night and he isn't even worrying about it. She doesn't want to overreact, either, so she simply says, "No thanks, not today." and moves on to get her purse in the living room.

He follows her down the stairs and gently takes her arm, and it brings back flashbacks of the day he grabbed her in the airport, "What's wrong, Tri? You've been off all morning..." He says, his brows furrowed.

She can tell he's concerned for her, simply by the tone of voice he's using (a sweet, gentle one that carries about twenty percent nerves). "Nothing." She replies, hoping he'll buy her lie. She doesn't want to overreact.

"Something is..."

"It's nothing, Tom." She states, a little bit more bitterly this time as she slides her arm away from his hand. "I just don't feel like having lunch with you today...I'm sorry...I just...I want to go home..." She says, turning around and walking the rest of the way down the stairs.

She hears his sad sigh, "Is it about last night?" He asks, finally, rushing down the stairs and standing in front of her in a desperate attempt to get her to stop. "I really, _really _am sorry, Trina. I just...I didn't even expect it. I don't think I've come that quick since I was a teenager..." He says sorrowfully, "You make me excited, Tri. Really excited." He continues, and by now she's forgotten that she hates being called _Tri_, because it sounds okay coming from him. "And you make me happy. And you make me feel..._new _and...I don't know how to explain all of this. And...I plan on one day finding out why you don't do relationships, because I plan on sticking around that long – no matter how long that may be – whether it's as a friend or a lover...I don't know. That's up to you because...you know how I feel about you, babe. And I think you know that I would do almost anything-"

"Stop." She says, meaning it as a demand but making it sound – accidentally – like more of a request. "I can't do this, Tom. I- do you understand what it's like for me right now? I don't think you do. Have you ever made the mistake of not pulling out?" She asks, waits a beat for him to shake his head, then continues, "So you don't know what I'm going through right now. I'm not mother material, which means I have to end the baby's life like I have done one other time before. I lost my first one, and I'm not getting pregnant and having a child. I know you don't have to worry about it, because why would you? You're just the man who injected sperm into a woman, not a father." She swallows hard and clutches her hands together in front of her, about to continue but she gets cut off.

"Then tell me. Tell me what you're going through. I do care for you, I thought I established that at dinner when we were talking. I- you're my friend. Even if we can't be more, I love being your friend and I most certainly love being your lover. Who wouldn't?" He asks, shifting his weight to his other leg and taking a deep breath. "You know that I didn't mean to do that, right? And _if_ you are pregnant, I would be there every step of the way whatever you wanted to do. If you wanted to abort, so be it. I'd be there to take you and to bring you back from the procedures." He says, pausing a moment, "I can't say I love you. Not yet. But I'm pretty sure I do and-"

"Stop."

"No, Tri. I can't just _stop_. I stopped in the shack that night and it's not happening again...I'm not going to let that happen again." He says. "I'm sorry for what you've been through. And I'd love, _love _to learn more about your life other than just knowing you're a flight attendant, a woman who sleeps around a lot, and a woman who dislikes her mother. I don't know why you don't like your mom. I don't know why you became a flight attendant. I don't – no, I _really _don't know why you sleep around, because any guy who has a lick of sense would kill to keep you around, Tri. _Kill_."

She looks down once he talks about her mother, shaking her head, "I haven't told anyone, Tom. At all."

"Well maybe you should start with me?" He offers, "I'd love to let you talk for hours and hours. Just...babble."

She looks over her shoulder, completely bypassing his face because she knew if she sees him, she'll start crying and then she'll break. She can't do that. Not now, not ever. "Goodbye, Tom. I'll see you tomorrow." She says sadly, grabbing her purse from the table and putting it over her shoulder.

"What if I told you," He pauses and hopes for her to stop – in which she does, "That I had a girlfriend right before I met you? We were very close, really, and she was even talking marriage. I wasn't ready for that, but I figured I'd wait it out because, hell, she may be the one. But then I met you, and I knew as soon as you stepped foot into my plane that I couldn't be faithful to her anymore. I dumped her. Because I knew I needed you, right then. And yeah, the whole reputation thing you've heard of was true. But it ended when I met her, and like I said, I knew I couldn't be faithful to her if you were around."

"You-" She stops, the anger growing and bubbling up in her chest, "_Why _the _hell _would you do that?!" She snaps, turning to face him again, "Why would you tell me that?! Now I'm just some...some 'other woman'? That makes me feel better, Tom. So much better."

"Because I knew-" He stops and shakes his head in defeat. "I knew that I couldn't be faithful. So you weren't the other woman, because you didn't even know about her until now."

"But-"

"Please...just-" He pauses again and swallows thickly – he must see the little bit of tears that are building up in her eyes, "Let's order lunch and have it delivered. Chinese, pizza, anything. I want to listen to your story."

She thinks for a moment, shifting her weight and getting a pouty look on her face. It's not purposely, the pout, but she does it without even realizing sometimes. This, unfortunately, is one of those times. It's unfortunate because he likes it when she pouts, and because it's brought a smile to his face. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because you're pouting." He says, smiling a little more. "You're adorable when you pout. See? That's one thing I know about you...now let me learn the millions of other little things about you and never, ever forget them."

Again, she shifts. She looks down, thinking hard and remembering back to what he said. _I would be there every step of the way whatever you wanted to do. _Why does he even want to be in her life? The thought just fathoms her beyond belief, she can't wrap her head around the fact that someone really cares about her and she's not even sure if he does. He keeps saying so, but...can she _really _trust a man that easily?

The tears come to surface again and she wipes them quickly, looking down and swallowing thickly. "Lunch, Tom. Don't make more moves like you did last night – please – I'm not...I'm not ready for that and I will be _very _upset with you if you try." She states, making sure he knows all the rules beforehand. "No strings attached, this time. You're not jumping my bones tonight or tomorrow night or any night unless _I _make that decision. Okay?"

He steps forward and tilts her chin up so that he could look into her eyes, then nods before pressing a sweet and gentle kiss to her forehead. "Okay. I don't ever want to make you cry again." He says sadly, wiping the tears running down her cheeks. She tries to jerk away on instinct, but he shakes his head, "I'm doing this because I care, Trina...I want to show you I care and I'm going to do many, many things to show you that."

_Ass-kiss_. She sniffles and looks back at him with the pouty expression again, "Why, then? Why do you care about me _so _much? What's so special about me, huh?" She asks, looking him straight in the eyes. "Because I don't understand. I don't- I don't see why you would give up a steady girlfriend for some..._slut_." She snips at herself, trying to gain her composure after she says that. "You deserve someone better if you really care about me, Tom, because I'm not that special."

"We'll just see about that, Tri." He challenges, smiling sadly and rubbing her cheek. "I care because I think you _are _special. I'm pretty sure you are, really. But I gotta find out, see, that's why I want to keep spending time with you. Talking, laughing, joking, having fun. I like doing that with you. Plus, I care about my friends. And I care because I don't want you to end up like my mom...and because she cares. Is that a good enough start of an answer?"

"Only a start of an answer?" She asks, furrowing her brows and wrinkling her face up a little.

He smiles sadly, nodding, "Only the start. Because once I learn more, I'm sure I'm going to care more and have even more reasons to. Okay?"

She sighs and gently pulls away from his hands, wiping her face and setting her purse down. "Pizza. I like pepperonis and extra cheese...and anything else. But definitely the pepperonis and extra cheese." She says, sucking the tears that have gathered on her lower lip into her mouth, keeping her head down as she tries to avoid thinking about all the things he wants her to babble about. "And I like that place on Third the best, but they don't deliver. Only pick-up and dine-in." She explains, wiping her nose on her wrist and swallowing thickly.

He nods, grabbing the phone book and looking for the restaurant's number, "Sounds good, we'll go pick it up if that's okay with you?"

"Sounds okay." She says, snuggling up into the couch's cushions a little more.

This may possibly be the most uncomfortable lunch she'll have had since her mother's "sex talk over Mexican take-out". A reason she doesn't like Mexican food, now.

**..**

…

He's doing all the work this time, not letting her lift a finger (he's told her so, too). He's getting the plates ready (styrofoam), the cups (plastic), and the sodas to go with the wonderfully delicious smelling pizza. He brings it all in, sets it down on the small coffee table, and opens the box for her to grab a slice. "Ladies first." He says, smiling with a bit of a goofiness to it like he's been so well at doing lately.

She smiles softly, the tear stains gone and the shakiness of everything disappeared for now. "Thank you." She says, grabbing a slice and laying it on her plate. She smiles, "Pepperonis, mushrooms, onions, sausage...but did you get extra cheese?" She asks playfully, taking a bite off the end.

He chuckles a little bit, "Of course! I couldn't forget your only two requests. You like the other stuff on it right?"

She nods with a mouth full, a little bit of a cheese hanging from her lips as the sauce is dabbed on her upper lip. "Love it." She murmurs, a mouth full of food blocking her from speaking properly. It's very un-lady like, and she can hear her mother's voice again in the back of her head, but she's doing her best to ignore that nagging as she chews. "Their pizza is the best."

"I agree." He replies, taking a bite off the end of his, too. "Now, I know you're stalling." He stops a beat and smirks up at her, biting his lip, "You wanna tell me _why_ you're stalling?"

"No." She answers with a mouthful again.

He smiles a little bit at her and hands her a napkin for the pizza sauce that's dripped down her chin. "You may need that." He says.

She takes it with a gracious expression, wipes her pizza face, and then sighs as she sets her slice down on the plate to take a drink. "What do you want to know?" She asks, just coming straight out with it.

"Whatever you're comfortable sharing."

"About what?"

"About anything." He replies, "I just wanna know _you_. The real you, not the..._I-sleep-with-random-men, _you."

She sighs in defeat, closing her eyes as she tries thinking of a subject to start on. "Just give me something to start with." She asks.

"Okay." He replies, thinking for a few moments and taking a couple sips of his drink, "Okay, how about why don't you like to be called Tri?"

"Because it's not my name. But you can keep calling me that." She says, trying to hide the small smile. _No, Trina. Stop. _

"Oh can I?" He asks sarcastically, cocking his head a little bit in a cute sort of way, "Am I really that special?"

"No, you'll just be an asshole if I keep telling you to stop." She quips, smirking up at him and giving him a small wink. "Next question because that one sucked." She states, raising her brows as she takes a big chunk off of her crust.

He thinks again, thinking hard and long on this question (she can tell by the way his chewing has slowed. She finds it somewhat funny). "Why did you become a flight attendant?"

"For the sex." She answers simply. "And, I mean, for that...but also because it pays decently and I like all the travel. It's a good job for me because it has long hours so I don't have to stay at home all the time." She shrugs a little bit and licks the pizza sauce off the corner of her lip, feeling like a complete slob. She doesn't really care. "So, yeah, sex and the view." She chuckles, eating the last bite of her first slice of pizza.

She reaches for another one as he goes right into his next question, "Why don't you like your mother?"

That one stops her, she freezes in mid-bite and takes the slice away from her lips to set it back down on her plate. "I – that's a question for a later date, Tom." She says, the subject making her uneasy, clearly. "It's a hard subject for me."

"Okay." He says respectively, "May I ask why it's a hard subject?" He asks softly, curiously. He wants to know, she can feel that deep down he's trying to be respectful but it's hard. She wonders, again, why he cares, but she just tries to keep her calm since he's trying to be nice about it all.

She swallows hard and looks down, picking at her nails in a nervous manner. "She's never been a great mother." She says, "And that's really all I want to say about it right now." She states, "Can we maybe have this conversation later? Like...some time way later? Over drinks one day? It's much easier for me to babble about my life when I'm slightly intoxicated." She admits, finally taking the slice back into her sort of shaky hands, looking up at him.

He waits a moment before giving her a nod, "Yeah." He says. She can tell he's a little disappointed, but he needs to understand how hard it is for her to do this.

"I will tell you, though, that I _hate_ cheaters. Since you want me to babble." She smiles a little bit, taking a bite and starting off with a mouthful again, "I was cheated on twice in high school. By the same boy, too. He was my boyfriend – the _only _relationship I actually had, mind you – and he cheated on me with this younger girl. I don't even remember her name. She's probably married by now." She says, shrugging a little bit. "The first time I let him off the hook, the second time – ooh, I was mad. I even slashed his tires. I hated him. But then," She pauses and shakes her head, "He gave me some tequila and into the backseat of that tire slashed car we went. Make up sex is probably the best sex." She smirks and shakes her head again, looking up at him. "But, anyway, it was only a little while after that that we parted ways simply because we just...weren't going to work out."

"What was his name?"

"Luke." She says, taking another bite from her slice. "My boyfriend all through high school. He took my virginity." She says with a low chuckle, smirking up at him and biting her lip.

"Oh did he now?" He asks, putting his drink down onto the table with a goofy smile on his lips, "Lucky bastard." He teases.

Trina smiles, nods, and continues eating. "Yeah, I guess so."

**..**

…

"And, also, I mean the perms just kind of stuck with me." She continues on after babbling (like she said she wouldn't) for about the past eight to nine hours. Of course, a break here and there, some radio, some television, and a dinner. "My mom made me do them but then...I ended up liking them." She states, shrugging.

He chuckles a bit, shaking his head as he tips back the wine they've been sipping at during the past hour. "You look good with a perm. But I have a feeling you're one of those people who would look good with any hairstyle, aren't you?"

She shrugs, "Maybe? I haven't tried many..."

"Maybe you should one day." He says, a little bit of a smiling gracing his lips.

She's noticed when he smiles that he looks like a teenager, especially with his fresh little baby face. It makes him even cuter, which is unfortunate. "Maybe I will." She replies, tipping her glass and raising a brow as to say, _touche. _

He lets out a sigh, and she can't tell if it's a sigh of content or a sigh of, _well, what's happening next? _"You want some more wine?" He asks, looking over at her mostly empty glass.

She takes a quick glance at the glass and shakes her head, "No thanks, I'm still kind of recovering from the alcohol last night." She chuckles and shakes her head. "And...Tom?" She asks the last part with a bit more shakiness in her voice. When he looks her in the eyes again, she sighs and continues, "I really, really do appreciate you. And your mom. I-I've just never really had anyone care for me like either of you do and it's a weird feeling to have that. It's not a bad feeling, just...weird." She admits, rubbing her arm after setting her glass down on the coffee table in front of them beside her feet, "And I thank you, too, for the nice words you said about...if I'm pregnant." She says, swallowing thickly and taking a very shaky breath. "I don't want to be pregnant, though, Tom. So I do hope you know that if I am, it's my body, my choice. I don't need a child."

"I understand." He replies, but she can tell there's a bit of bitterness in his voice. "I just...I want to be there with you no matter what happens okay? When – if you end up needing to take the test, just...let me know and I'll pick you up and bring you. I got you in the mess, I'll stick with you through it."

"And I thank you for that, too. Really." She says, then yawns. After taking a look at the clock on his wall, she sighs, "I really should be getting home, it's getting pretty late and we have to be up early tomorrow." She states, not really sure of her words. She doesn't _really _want to leave all that badly, but she also knows they need their sleep. She doesn't want more sex, just...she's not sure she wants to leave him.

He stands up and stretches, stifling out a yawn as well, "Why leave? Just stay with me again tonight, we can run by your house and grab your uniform in the morning. Okay? I don't want sex – well I do but I want to respect you." He says, then nods and continues, "I just want you to sleep beside me again. I like it when you're there."

She smiles a bit, biting her lip and shaking her head up at him. When she sees the look of disappointment, she surprises him with her next word, "Okay." And she stands up to be his level. She wraps her arms around his neck again and smiles just a little bit, "Thanks. For making me feel like I have worth, for respecting me...for...a lot, Tom. You're a better guy than I thought you were."

"I know." He teases, which results in a playful smack on the back of the head from Trina, "Ow."

"Ow is right." She smiles and shakes her head, sliding her arms down from around his neck and clasping her hands together. "Do you have another shirt I can sleep in?"

"Of course." He says, leading the way up to the bedroom without even putting any of the dishes away. She has a feeling he just wants to enjoy the night, think about the dirty dishes later. Which is what she would like to do, too.

She follows him up the staircase, smiling as she remembered their clumsy trip up it last night. It made her stomach bubble with giddiness again, even though tonight – honestly – she didn't want sex. Not with the possibility of a baby.

She strips down into her underwear, putting his shirt on over her naked upper half. It came down to just above her knees, and she caught him staring. "What?" She asks, looking up at him as she sits on the edge of the bed.

"Nothing." He states, a goofy smile on his lips. It reminds her of this morning when he was caught watching her brush her teeth. She wonders what he's so infatuated about with her. Maybe she'll ask...later.

After she slips into the bed and under the covers, she lets out another yawn and sighs. "Goodnight, Tom."

"Goodnight, Trina."

And with that, it's one of the few times she falls asleep with a smile on her face. And surely not the last.

**..**

…

Four weeks had passed by; weeks of Trina hardly ever wanting to go back to her own apartment (though, she has, and she's only spent about three more nights at Tom's since the night she babbled on about her life), weeks of being domestic at dinner time (which she's kind of grown to like), weeks of wondering...if she's pregnant.

Now, she's sitting in a doctor's office waiting for the blood results. And of course – Tom is right by her side, squeezing her hand. "I'm still going to be with you." He reminds her.

He's sensed, again, that she's nervous. How could she not be? It's not like she _wants _to end a baby's life, it's just what needs to be done if that's what's going on. She can't be a mother. So, because he's sensed her nerves, he's been assuring her the whole morning that he's not going to leave her side. And it makes her feel comforted, but also a bit agitated, "Okay." She says, her expression mostly blank as she replies.

After only a few more minutes of waiting, they're called back into a private room so the doctor – Dr. Fragert – can give her the results. "Ms. Russo?" She says, coming in the door with a soft, doctor smile. "Hi, nice to see you again." She says, shaking her hand after putting the clipboard of papers down on her little desk. She sits down on her rolling stool and clears her throat, "I don't know whether to say I have good news or bad news." She states, looking down for a moment and then back up at Trina.

"I – I don't want it." Trina replies nervously, shaking her head. Tom immediately, instinctively squeezes her hand to let her know that he's right there. "So is it still good or is it bad?"

"Good." Dr. Fragert says with a sad smile, "Your results came back negative, Ms. Russo. You're definitely not pregnant."

Trina looks over at Tom with a relieved sort of smile, tears coming to her eyes. He looks at her like he's amazed, but he probably is. One, because he's been swearing up and down that she's pregnant. Two, because he's never seen her cry when it wasn't his fault. "It's okay." He whispers with a soft smile, reaching up to wipe her tears.

Dr. Fragert smiles slightly, standing up and handing a few papers to Trina, "What a nice couple." She says softly, "I'll see you in a few months for your next check up." She says, then politely closes the door as Trina and Tom are looking at each other with a bit of confusion.

"Don't let her thinking that we're a couple go to your head, we aren't." She says, and then finally smiles again, wiping her own tears now.

He chuckles, "I was hoping, but..." He shrugs. "I'll wait some more."

She nods and looks away, gathering herself a moment before speaking again, "Thank you for sticking by me like you said." She whispers, "And, I – I've learned a lot from this experience. I've been through this before, but...I don't know. This time it felt different for some reason. And...I was actually really scared I would have to terminate the baby." She states, shaking her head and looking down, "So please, please...let's be more careful. And we're going to be using condoms. And...I also have someone who may be able to get me one of those...contraceptive pill, things. So...I'm going to try that. I'm scared, though, that it won't work. So...just be careful with me." She warns shakily, but then takes his cheeks in her hands, pulls him in softly, and places her lips on his. "That was a friendly kiss." She states with a tired smile.

**...**

**...**

**What did you think? Please, please, let me know in a review! I always try to base my stories off of what the readers like, and if I don't hear feedback, I don't know what they like ;) So help me out, please, and let me know of things you're really liking or maybe (hopefully not!) disliking. **

**Thank you!**

**G.**


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE BUT LIFE HAS BEEN HECTIC WITH WORK AND WORK AND MORE WORK. I'M JUST A TEENAGER BUT WORKING FULL TIME AND IT KINDA SUCKS BUT THE PAY IS GOOD SO HEY._

_Anyway..._

_I really love all the support this has continued to get, even though I stopped writing it for so long! Please keep it up! It fuels me! It makes me want to write it and want to write it well, too, for all of you guys._

_Love you all! Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review with your thoughts on the chapter, please!_

_G._

**..**

**...**

Everything has been natural these past two weeks with Tom and the flight crew. It's all balanced again, for a while, she thinks. They've not had any major problems, every flight has gone by well with no issues, and customers have been relatively nicer (or, maybe it's just her that thinks that simply because she's actually been in the mood to come to work, lately).

She's had dinners with Tom, casual dinners, casual lunches, a few nights together. She's gotten her hands on a few months worth of contraceptive pills, thanks to a pharmaceutical friend. They've been okay. They've actually almost been one of those..._couples. _It's been hard to contain their obvious relationship while at work, but they've somehow managed to make sure the crew tells no one. Patty may not like Trina, but not enough to make her lose her job.

"After you." Tom says, holding the airport door open for her.

She gives him a sweet smile and pulls her coat up around her neck, feeling the cool, late-fall breeze down her back, "Any plans for tonight?" She asks, turning to face him a little bit once she's out the door.

He follows behind her, not too close to make her uncomfortable but close enough. "Only ones that involve you." He cops and smirks a bit, "Do you have any?"

Her frown comes along when he says his first few words, _Only the ones that involve you. _She shakes her head and purses her lips over to the side before speaking, "I actually have an appointment with your mom to refill my nails, and then I really need to go grocery shopping because my poor apartment cabinets are practically bare." She states, looking up at him.

"Well I could come to the salon with you, right?" He says, shrugging, "I always like visiting my mother anyway..."

"You?" She asks, raising a brow, "In a salon?"

"Yes?"

The corners of her lips jerk up into a half-grin, "I guess I never pinned you to be the type for manicures..." She purrs, giving him a bit of a smirk now that her grin was more devious. "But I suppose if you don't mind the smell of acetone and acrylic, be my guest." then adds, "Literally."

She closes her eyes when he leans down a little to kiss her lips, "I grew up in the smell of acetone and acrylic." He muses, smiling as she opens her eyes to find his.

"I suppose you're right."

"You suppose?" He asks, a brow raised to match her earlier expression, when she was mocking his manicure-ish nature.

Her top teeth clamp down on her lower lip, and she watches as he just looks at her with an absolute love in his eye for her. "Okay, okay. I'm not saying I was wrong to _suppose, _but..."

"You were wrong." He interrupts playfully.

Trina wonders right then why she even likes him. Why she let's him interrupt her like that. _This isn't you_. It makes her stop and close her eyes right there, and he's saying something to her along the lines of _are you okay? _And _Tri?_ But she isn't listening. She's hearing his voice and his words, she knows what he's saying, but she's still wondering. "I'm fine." She finally states. "I'm just...wondering why in hell I let you do this to me. Why I let you interrupt, why I let you call me my most un-favorite nickname. It's just...like whenever you do or say something it's completely okay." She admits, "I never used to be like that. Just...let someone be annoying to me. But you don't annoy me like most people do when they do that kinda stuff..."

She realizes shortly after she stopped talking that she started ranting to him. But he listened without a peep. _At least he doesn't interrupt the important things. _He really does want to listen and learn about her. And the more she's been around him these past few weeks, the more she really lets it sink in that someone cares for her as much as she cares for other people. "Sorry." She breathes, "It's just...you've really turned my life upside down." She states, getting in his car and rubbing her face a little bit.

"How?" He asks, the worry in his voice. It sounds as though he's scared he's done something wrong, like a scared child or something.

She looks over at him and sighs, "You don't have to be so..._so_ sweet all the time. I still like the other Tom too. The Tom that gives a ton of sexual jokes and that is constantly grabbing my ass. I like that Tom too. I just like him better when he's honest and when he's with only one woman at a time." She shrugs and shakes her head, "I like you, Tom. That's what I mean when I say that you've really turned my life upside down. It's a good thing, in a sorta-kinda way." She admits, watching him the whole time to see if his expression changes at all.

And when it doesn't, when he shakes his head, staring in her eyes, she thinks she just blew it for a moment. That is, until he replies, "Good." and swallows back what sounded like a whole mouthful of nausea, "Because you've turned mine upside down too. I mean, the moment we met...I dumped my girlfriend of quite a while. And then the whole _don't speak to me_ thing you went through for a while really hit me hard too, because I literally had no one then. I wanted you, still. So when I got you, I almost screwed it all up again thinking I got you pregnant. So I mean, yeah. You've really flipped mine upside down too. But I think that's a good thing, right? I mean, I learned a lot from you..."

"And I've learned a lot from you, too, Tom." She says, "How to be caring, how to...pick and choose the fights. How to be more patient."

"And I've learned to pull out." He teases lightheartedly, making her give a small smile, "But really, you've taught me to be patient with people, too. And to not be such a jerk. Just in these short few months that we've known each other."

She smiles softly at that thought, then looks back down at her hands in her lap, "Well...I don't want to be late for my nail appointment..." She says, trying to get off such a sappy subject. She's not a sentimental person. Never has been, never plans on being one.

After the relatively short drive to the salon, she grabs her coat again and puts it on before stepping out into the cold, mid-November evening. "Trina." Mel greets at the door, holding it open for the two of them to come in. "Hurry, hurry. It's cold out there." She says, rushing them in.

Trina brushes her arms off and her shoulders, shivering a little bit. "This winter is sure going to be a brutal one, isn't it Mel?" Trina asks, looking at the older woman and smiling softly.

Mel finishes hugging her son and nods, "My poor old bones are getting too brittle for these cold winters." She says, chuckling sadly and going over to her work station. She sits down and starts preparing the filler, then asks, "So, son, what brings you here tonight with my lovely customer?"

He walks in after Trina and pulls a chair up beside her, sitting down and leaning his elbows on the corner of the nail table. "Just wanted to be with her tonight." He shrugs.

Such simple words, but Trina's heart is pounding. She's sure that Mel can see that her heart is beating out of her chest, because all she can do is smirk slyly to Trina and look down to get the polish off of her nails. "Well, that's nice of you." She answers, then continues with, "You two sure are getting serious? Is it just the winter weather making you want a cuddle buddy or is this actually a relationship?"

Trina feels her breath – well, she doesn't feel her breath. That's the issue. She's stopped breathing as she looks over at Tom.

He looks at her, as well, and lays a hand on her upper thigh and turns to face his mother, "We're just taking things one step at a time, ma. I mean, it's more of a relationship than not...but nothing like marriage-material any time soon." He shrugs, looking back at Trina once he finishes. He gives her a sweet smile and squeezes her thigh, "But I think I'll probably keep this one around a while."

Trina rolls her eyes, "You say it like you have a choice?" She teases, smirking and shaking her head while turning back to Mel. "You sure have one hell of a son." She states and looks down at her nails.

Mel smiles and clears her throat, "What color you going with today?"

"Surprise me." Trina says, reaching to grab a cigarette pack from her purse, getting a few out and laying them beside her arm for when she wants them. She lights one up and puffs on it a bit while Mel is turned to the side, picking from her basket of polishes. "Gosh, I really need to cut down on all these. They're costing me too much money." She complains, picking through the other two cigarettes that are laid down beside her, shaking her head and blowing the smoke out.

Mel turns back to the table and shakes a berry-colored polish in her hand, "They're bad for you anyway, hun." She says, shrugging. "At least that's what I say. Doctors still say they're a-ok." She shrugs again and shakes her head, "I still smoke 'em though." She admits and scrunches her nose up in a quiet laugh.

Trina smirks as she purses her lips to blow smoke downward, away from Mel's face. "Well, until I hear that they're killing people? I'm not quitting." She states, and Tom just shakes his head.

"I don't know...I just can't smoke them. I mean, not that kind." He says, pointing to the box that's halfway sticking out from her purse. "They're too damn bitter for me."

"Tommy." Mel warns, eying him for saying such bad words.

"What?!"

"I raised you better than to cuss like that in front of a lady."

"Trina? She's no lady." He teases, nudging Trina's arm that wasn't being worked on by Mel. "Are you, babe?"

"Damn right." Trina replies, smirking toward Mel. "Momma Mel taught me damn well how to cuss like a lady."

Mel winks up at her for a moment before filing the acrylic down, "That's my girl." She says. "Women can cuss in front of men...the other way around is very _rude._" She snips at Tom, never looking up.

Tom scoffs, but Trina just huffs a laugh, "Yeah, _Tommy_. It's very rude." She mocks, making Tom roll his eyes a bit and try to not laugh. He was trying to act mad, but it wasn't really working all that well.

After the filler was in place and her left hand was polished, Mel was finishing up her middle finger when she looked up at Trina. "I've been waiting to see if you two will actually make this..._official..._but I can't really wait any longer because I need to know what size turkey to get." She says, then looks back down to start on her ring finger, "Thanksgiving is coming up next week. It's been a long time since I've had anyone over, and I was thinking that you and Tommy could maybe come over and celebrate the holiday with me..." She says.

Trina picks up the tone of her voice, realizing that she's almost nervous to ask this. Mel may be a somewhat outgoing person on the outside, but maybe she's really just like Trina – someone who tries to act overly friendly so no one gets _too_ close. She looks over at Tom, then shrugs, "I love Thanksgiving and it would be real nice to be able to have a nice dinner."

Tom nods in agreement, smiling softly and giving her a rub on the leg as if to say, _thank you for doing this. _She turns to Mel and nods, "Sounds great. I can bring a sweet potato pie and a bowl of mashed potatoes with gravy?"

Mel smiles immediately, almost like a woman who's just been told she's going to be a first-time grandmother, "That sounds like a plan."

**..**

…

A whole week of work goes by quicker than Trina had imagined it to go, quicker than it had in a long time. Maybe it was because she was a little bit nervous about Thanksgiving with Tom's family. Maybe it was because she was non-stop busy because a bunch of women took off for vacation, leaving her to fill in their time. But mostly, she was pretty nervous.

She actually went out and bought a whole new outfit (thanks to her overtime money) for the dinner. She had gotten a perm on Monday, after her shift had ended, and her nails were still a fresh fall color. She looked the part for a dinner with his family.

She takes one last look in the mirror in her room – a tan dress, snug at the top and flowing at the bottom, coming down to the knees. What they call a skater dress. It had brown stripes on the top going around her, and it had long sleeves so she wouldn't completely freeze in the Chicago winter. She grabs the long, bright orange coat off of her bed and covers her body up with it, tying it around her waist and fluffing her hair one last time. _It's as good as it's going to get, Trina. _

She grabbed oven mitts and the dish of macaroni and cheese she had baked, still hot from the oven, bringing it out to the cab with her. She repeated Mel's address from the napkin it was written down on, and then she was off. Though in normal circumstances the macaroni would've made her legs uncomfortably hot (even on top of the mitts and clothing), she was wonderfully satisfied and even though of taking a warm dish of macaroni everywhere she went this winter.

When she arrived, she wished the cabbie a Happy Thanksgiving and proceeded to make her way through the snow to get to Mel's apartment building. She's standing at the fourth door on the right, second floor, ready to knock. Her heart is up in her throat and she's afraid that when Mel or Tom come to the door, she may drop the dish of macaroni.

She shouldn't be so damn nervous. That's what she keeps telling herself.

Finally, she musters up the courage to knock, and not even a second later Tom opens the door. "Hey babe." He says, a big smile on his face as he leans forward in a nice, button-down, long sleeve shirt. A light, pastel orange. It fit him and his skin tone beautifully. She smiles as he kisses her cheek politely, "Mm, macaroni and cheese?"

"My one and only dish, my specialty." She teases at him, her smile as cheesy as the dish in her hands.

Tom moves back with a grin on his face, moving out of her way to let her in. She steps in after the welcoming gesture from him and looks around. It's pretty much as she imagined it in here.

She can tell that Mel has prepared for this meticulously. Everything in the whole house was spotless – no dust on the television set, no dirt on the burnt orange carpet, not even a hint of a smell of smoke. She somehow has gotten out the smoke smell in this apartment. Besides the cleanliness, she noticed the doll collection Mel had setting on her entertainment cabinet. There were probably twenty dolls, all beautiful and old. She wondered why she collected dolls, and she made a mental note, then, that it would be a good dinner conversation.

Pulling away from her thoughts, Mel comes out of the kitchen with an apron on that had a turkey on the front of it with big eyes, saying, _GOBBLE GOBBLE, _and her name up at the very top. She's untying it with a big smile written across her face, "Trina! Oh my you look so beautiful!" She says, just as excited as she was when Trina had agreed to dinner and to come be with them for their first Thanksgiving together. "The ham is finishing up, and the turkey is all covered waiting to be carved. The mashed potatoes and the peas are also covered up, the green beans are already out on the table. The stuffing is- OH! The stuffing!" She says, hair-brained like usual when she get in frantic moods.

She runs back into the kitchen and she has Tom chuckling to himself, "She's a mess. She's been cooking all day. Dumplings, stuffing, potatoes, turkey...we'll be stuffed for days. Probably won't even be allowed on the plane due to weight restrictions." He jokes, sitting down on the perfectly vacuumed, cloth, floral print couch.

Smiling, she heads into the kitchen and sets the macaroni and cheese dish down, "Is there anything I can do to help?" What has possessed her to ask such a thing? _SHE IS NO HELP IN THE KITCHEN. AT ALL. _

"Sure." That's probably the worst answer she could've received in this moment, "Go ahead and stir the dumplings, just make sure they don't burn. And there's candy over there in that bowl that needs mixed with my electric...take your pick." Mel explains, then goes back to her stuffing prep.

Trina turns and takes a deep breath, facing the bowl of candy that needs electric mixing. _Surely it can't be too hard_. She sticks the tongs in and turns the beaters on low at first, then higher, higher, and- too high. "Oh no!" She exclaims, candy hitting the ceiling and already hardening from it being on the cold surface. Candy hitting Mel's hair, the stove, the refrigerator...everything. And of course all over Trina's new outfit and her perfectly permed hair. "No! No!" She squeals, trying to take the beaters out but it just makes it fly out worse.

"Turn it off, Trina!" Mel yells over the loud noises of her screams. Tom's in there now, and Trina feels her face redden with utter embarrassment when his mother takes the mixer from her hands. She steps backward like a child who has just been scolded for making a mess, then instinctively grabs a rag. She wets it, and immediately cleans all the hard candy for at least twenty minutes while Tom and Mel helped.

Once they finish, she stands and smells the dumplings...they're burning. Mel is trying to get the pot off of the burner and she spills those, too, all over the floor and dripping down the stove. "I-I think I should just go." She says. Clearly, she was not meant to be here.

Not this Thanksgiving, and after the way this one went, maybe not any Thanksgiving with them.

As she's picking up the dish of macaroni, her oven mitt slips out of her hand and the dish breaks all over the floor. Tom looks up from the dumplings, "It's okay, Tri. We'll get it." He says sadly, and all she wants to do is bury her red face in her hands and cry. But instead, she just nods and swallows back that lump in her throat (the one that kinda tastes like nausea, now that she pays attention). She just ruined Mel's kitchen. She ruined the candy and the dumplings. She ruined Mel's apron. She ruined her new outfit. She ruined her and Tom. She ruined Thanksgiving. And she's really not even sure what she's most upset about.

**..**

…

"Trina? Babe...I know you're listening. You picked up."

She may have picked up, but it was only to hear his voice. She couldn't possibly talk and let him know she's been crying. Her voice was surely all crackly and groggy from her sadness. She just breathed, and that's all he could probably even hear, was her breath.

"I know you're listening, so I'm just gonna say I know you are probably home, crying, upset...but don't be." _Why does he read me so well? I'm a closed book. _"It's just a little mistake that could've happened to anyone." _But it happened to me. __**Me. **__The woman who is never ever that embarrassed and who never ever wants to cry outside of her own home. _"I still want us to have dinner and ma does too, so please...please come tomorrow night. The kitchen is all fixed up again and we really want you here. Both of us." _Why? _As if she read Trina's mind, Mel pops into the phone, "It's okay, hun. We aren't mad." She says. _Not mad? Livid... "_We both want you back tomorrow. Please, babe. Please talk?"

She gives it a moment, but she can't bring herself to say anything. She just puts the phone on the hook and proceeds her crying. It wouldn't have been so bad either, usually, but the pills she's taken for birth control make her more emotional. She didn't like that side-affect, but it was worth it.

She flips her pillow to the other side so she's not lying in a puddle of tears, then closes her eyes and wishes she would go to sleep.

**..**

…

It's the first day off she's had in a whole week, and it couldn't have come at a better time. She needed the day off. Her eyes were still puffy from last night's hysteria, and her face looked as though she had been bitten by ten bees on each cheek. Her eyelids were droopy, only able to get in three hours of sleep before the sun came up. She felt like shit. Pure. Shit.

The phone rang again, and she answered it, "Hello?"

"Trina..." Tom says, "Baby...please come over today."

"Tom, I can't. I'm so..."

"I know you're embarrassed." He finishes for her. "But things happen. We'll keep you out of the kitchen and we'll play some games and eat a bunch of food. Tri...my mom and I aren't mad. It was all accidental."

She thinks for a moment, then sits down at the chair beside the phone, "It was my first time being with her outside of the nail salon and I had to act like a goofy sixteen year old who didn't know anything about anything. I felt so...naive, Tom." She admits, shaking her head as her nail picks at her bottom lip, thinking of what to say now since he's gone quiet. "I felt like my mother had been right all this time. That I really am just a slutty whore who doesn't even know how to boil water, all I know how to do is have sex. A failure."

"You're not a failure." He answers quickly. "And yeah, okay, maybe you can't cook. But who cares, Tri? I can, and I can even help you if you wanted to learn. Have I ever made you cook?"

She thinks a moment, and all of those days she's woken up at his house, "No..."

"Exactly. And I won't ever make you cook unless you don't come back over for dinner." He replies.

She sniffles into the phone and looks away at the clock. It's already 11:30."

"And?"

"And...there is no and."

"Come early, babe. Let's just talk, drink, have a good time with my mom." He pleads, "We don't have to dress up. Come over in sweats, please, really, because we're both bundled up in our comfy clothes on the couch and on the floor. We just are relaxing and waiting for our day-after-Thanksgiving dinner."

Again, she pauses and thinks. She finally comes up with an answer, bringing her feet up in the chair and her knees to her chest, "Which sweats? The grey or the black?"

"Definitely the black. Black is your color." He says, and the simple little gesture finally made her smile just a teeny bit, but enough.

"Okay." She replies, "I'll be over in a few, as soon as I get dressed and catch cab."

**..**

…

They were both in their sweats this time as they _both _came to answer the door. The house wasn't quite as clean, the yapping chihuahua that Mel had kept away in the bathroom (because there was a guest and formal dinner) was now out and sniffing her up and down as she sat down on the couch. "It's okay...I like dogs." She coos, rubbing his back.

He nuzzles up against her sweats and eventually falls asleep there as Mel is warming up all the "leftovers" from last night.

Once it's all finished, they pile in the kitchen with plastic plates and dip their food out onto them, bringing them back to the living room for a completely non-formal dinner. "This is delicious, Mal." She says, smiling sadly over at the woman.

"Thank you, honey." She says, smiling back at Trina.

_This _was family dinner. Not the formal stuff. _This was family._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **

**Yay! A quicker update finally! Although I only had the time to update so quick because I was sick. (So that's not so YAY). But oh well...at least I got to write and edit, too.**

**Hope you enjoy! Loving all the reviews on the story! So please please keep them coming!**

**G.**

**..**

**...**

"My foot is cramping up, Tom." Yes, surely, that's quite the turn off. But damn it, her foot is cramped up and her toes aren't curling in pleasure. "Tom...seriously..." She says again, pushing his head out from between her legs.

He looks up, and at first she thinks he's annoyed, but then he purses his lips and sighs. "Well, I suppose I can stop the foreplay to give a foot rub?" He finally states, smiling a little bit and leaning back on his knees, taking the foot that was all crunched up in a little ball.

"Ah." She hums, "Yes...that's the spot."

Her eyes are closed, so she can't see the big smirk that's on his face. "I'm not having sex with you yet..." He teases, and she peeks an eye open so that she can retort properly.

"Real funny, _Captain Decker._" And then her eyes close again, her fists grabbing the sheets as her toes finally loosen up, her hips coming up from the bed. "You had my toes curled up so tight that they actually cramped. I don't think that's happened before." She halfway whispers, mostly just from her voice being slightly hoarse.

She's using her other leg to wrap around him and pull him back to where he was before as he speaks, "Mm, is that a record for me? Oh, wait, _another_ record for me?" He asks, running his right hand up her left thigh as he gets back into position.

The fact that they can be playful during intimacy makes her happy. She's realized it a few times. She loves the feeling of being able to smile, not deviously or maniacally, just genuinely smile and bite her lip. And those – the smile and lip bite – are appearing now as his chin hovers just above her clit, "Oh yes sir, definitely." She teases, wrapping both legs around him now.

His teeth run over his bottom lip real quick before he leans down, running the tip of his tongue down her lower stomach and down that wonderful little bundle of nerves, making her jerk a little. "Good." He mutters, coming up a moment before lifting her by her thighs, the crook of his elbow holding them. "What's another record I shall set?" He asks, being coy with her.

She loves it, and loves to keep baiting him by saying, "I'm not sure...any ideas?" hoping it'll turn him on more (since she sort of ruined the heat of the moment as his mouth was busy sucking on her center). When he shakes his head against her, running his tongue from the bottom of her entrance all the way to the top, reaching her clit, she hums again and bites her lip, "It's hard to break records with me, Tom." She coos, arching her back again. She can't think of anything, and maybe now isn't the best time to try to be thinking of all the times she's had sex. She's trying hard, but it's not enough. Instead, her mind is buzzing with just one thought. _Is he ever going to actually get me horny?_

She just isn't into it tonight. It's cold, she had a long day at work with a few annoying passengers, and she just wanted to put her feet up and go to sleep in this dingy hotel they're in tonight, waiting for their returning flight at 6:30 tomorrow morning. It's already 11:00, they shouldn't even be awake. But he wanted sex. And she wasn't going to say no. She just wants sleep.

She's not even sure if he realizes that she's totally not into it. Especially not when his head is between her legs, peppering kisses all the way up her clit, her stomach, her breasts, and then he stops at her lips and looks in her eyes. "What's up?" He whispers, his lips hovering over her chin as he holds himself above her, their bodies touching but he's not crushing her. His erection is hitting her stomach, and it makes her suck it in and shift uncomfortably underneath him. "You're not focused."

Her eyes close and she licks her lips, "I'm not focused." She says, making it a sure statement. "I'm sleepy. Tired, actually." She admits, shaking her head and opening her eyes. "Sorry, Tom, I'm just...I'm not into it tonight. We just had sex last night and today has been so long thanks to the passengers and-"

She's interrupted, now, by his lips telling her to be quiet in one of the best ways – by kissing her. It's not passionate, it's not sexy or heated, it's just a kiss. "It's okay. You don't have to be into it tonight." He whispers, moving his hand to run his fingers through her hair softly, pushing the little stray strands of curls away from her face. "How about I just please you for once? You do nothing?"

"Nothing?" She asks, raising a brow. "That sounds like such a joyous time for you." She quips, giving him a sad expression. She sighs a little bit and reaches between them, knowing he'll just smart off about how it won't be a great time at all, but he'll do it. She takes his erection in her hand but he moves his hips away from her, shaking his head.

"Tri." He murmurs, "I was being serious, too. Tonight's gonna be about you." He says, taking her hand and squeezing it, but frowning. "Good gosh you're freezing cold."

"And not horny at all..." She adds in, mumbling softly.

He's already lifting the comforter up over them, covering both of their bodies while he lays down on her, keeping most of his weight on his hands so that he won't crush her. "Just relax, Tri." He whispers in her ear, kissing her neck softly. "I'll make you warm again, and I'll help you relax."

She believes that about as much as she believes pigs will fly one day, but she just lies there and sighs. "Tom, I-"

"Sh." He whispers, smirking up at her. "Can't you just let me do this for you? You do nothing, I do all of it? Just tonight?"

"I've never done that with anyone." She says, "I've never _let_ anyone do that, Tom. It's just weird." She says, looking up in his eyes. She feels like a teenager again, telling Luke in the back of his car that she's never been with anyone before, right as he slid in her. She told him that night that it felt weird, and that's how she felt again tonight.

He sighs softly, taking her breasts in his hands and just rubbing them, not answering. "Tell me if it still feels weird in five minutes, babe..." He says, leaning down and kissing between her breasts.

Without realizing it, her eyes close again and she sighs, still doubting that he can just make her relax. She feels more on edge than she ever has now. But he's still trying, he's hot and warming her body up just like he said he would. He's kissing down her body, now, but leaving his lips off of her center this time. Still rubbing her breasts, now rubbing his erection against her. "Does that feel good?" He asks, but she doesn't really answer. She feels uncomfortable. She feels awkward. He stops when she doesn't answer, pursing his lips. "Does it _not _feel good?" He asks. She knows he just wants to make sure she's not disliking it, but she would tell him otherwise.

"I just feel awkward." She says, finding his eyes again and smiling sadly. "I feel like I should be doing something but I'm too tired to do that."

He chuckles sadly and shakes his head, biting his lip. "You can't just relax, can you babe?" He asks softly, looking in her eyes. "Just _relax. _Think about...I don't know...about a vacation...in a nice, tropical place. Close your eyes." He instructs, and she reluctantly does so. "Now, imagine us." And she does, but she makes an unhappy noise.

"What is this supposed to be doing, Tom?" She mumbles, growing slightly irritated with this foolishness.

He sighs, "Just try it, for me?"

She thinks for a moment, and her body sinks into the bed, "Okay." She says, trying to be cooperative about it. Trying to imagine them, just for him. "Okay, I see us."

"Doing what?"

"Doing...just sitting. We're in front of a fireplace, on the couch in your house – though you don't have a fireplace? But I'm in your arms, and we're drinking hot chocolate."

He smiles softly at that, nodding and biting his lip. "Now take that relaxed feeling, take that and put it in you now. Who was the one who made the fire?" He asks.

"You, I suppose..."

"Who was the one that made the hot chocolate?"

"You?"

"And who was the one who made you feel relaxed?" He finally asks, and she smiles a little.

"You." She says, more definitively this time.

"Exactly." He answers, smiling at her realization. "I'm always going to try to make you feel relaxed. This is just one different way." He says, then reaches down between them and places two fingers on her clit, gently rubbing in circles and kissing at her collarbone. His erection is still rubbing on her, and she finally feels a bit relaxed. She finally feels the peace fall over her. Her eyelids relax, too, and he's still talking to her but she's only listening to her thoughts right now.

Those thoughts are telling her to say three little words: Why do this? Why make her fall apart like this? She's spent her whole life building herself up to be a...well, a master of sex. Now, he's unraveling her. Thread by thread, too.

Her body shifts a little, and she realizes it's because he moved her. She opens her eyes and blinks tiredly, watching him position himself at her entrance. "Relax." He whispers, his voice soothing and soft. "I have a condom." He smirks and laughs, "No worries...just relax." He says, and the condom remark makes her smile to herself before closing her eyes again.

Muscles in her stomach tighten when he rests his tip on her, slowly sliding in. She can't even moan, she can't hardly move. She's finally, fully, relaxed. She doesn't say anything, but her expression changes from a big smile, to a small, tired grin. "Okay." She finally whispers in reply to him, biting her lip. "Okay."

She opens her eyes quickly, only for a moment, but just in time to see his proud little smile. It made her feel safe, and she shut her eyes again as he reaches that spot inside of her. She's chuckling to herself, though she never makes a sound. Her mind goes back to when her foot cramped and he was rubbing it, and she said _that's the spot. _She wants to say it again, but she just can't bring her mind to get in connection with her tongue and say it.

He's moving in and out, slowly and gently. _Mmph. _She's not sure if that was done out loud or not, but she doesn't really care. "Now you're relaxing me..." She murmurs, smiling still in that soft, childlike smile.

"Good." He whispers, rubbing her thighs lovingly.

**..**

**...**

Before she knows it, she's waking up. Waking up next to him, naked as the night before, snuggled up warmly to him. He's already awake, though, and smiling at her. "Good morning, sleepy." He says, a small chuckle emitting from his lips.

Yawning, she replies, "Good morning..." and turns to face him. "What time is it?" She asks, worried they slept in.

"Only five thirty." He replies, brushing her hair back. "Enough time to get a shower and clean up. But only enough time for one shower...what shall we do?"

"Oh? I don't know?" She chuckles tiredly and rubs the sleep from her eyes, stretching out and groaning. "Mmph...what the hell did you do to me last night? I slept like a baby..." And boy, is that the truth. She's still sleepy, but yet she feels so relaxed...somehow. She thinks that they really must've had a good time, and must've gotten drunk or something because she remembers nothing about-

"Well, about the third thrust into you and you fell asleep. You looked so peaceful, too." He says, smiling softly.

She looks up at him, extremely confused, "So that wasn't a dream?"

"What wasn't a dream?" He asks.

She shakes her head, closing her eyes and replying, "Nothing." as she realizes that it was real. She chuckles softly and bites her lip. He really did make her relax...he made her feel like a total princess last night and she fell asleep with him inside of her. In a way, it made her feel weird that she didn't even do anything for him. She wonders if he even finished, but she doesn't really want to ask. She doesn't care either way, though she hopes he did finish. She hopes he did at least get some pleasure while he was giving himself to her, being completely selfless for her.

"Why'd you do it?" She asks softly, turning and getting out of the bed, stretching again as she heads for the bathroom in the hotel room. "Why...like why did you feel the need to make me so relaxed?"

He shakes his head, "Because you're just...I'm kind of in love with you and I can't say that to you yet because you get scared. I understand it...I don't ever wanna make you uncomfortable. But, that's my explanation."

Her heart jumps into her throat, and she just nods. There's that _L _word again. She's not sure, now, if she hates it so much. But she doesn't answer, she tries to avoid thinking about the fact that she doesn't hate the feeling of being loved by him, and she's trying to just remember that he's just a lover.

**..**

…

Their landing was much smoother this time, their flight was much easier and there weren't as many annoying passengers. All day, that thought kept giving her a headache – the thought of him loving her. She's not ready for it.

She feels something prodding into her side through the cloth in her shirt pocket when she looks down and sees a note that wasn't there earlier. Her expression turns into a little frown, unsure of what it is, and she takes it out to read it:

"_Had to sneak off quick to go to the grocery store. Dinner tonight at my apartment? Tom." _And of course, there was a badly drawn, cute, little heart by his name. It makes her smile, and she tucks it back into pocket with a silly little grin on her lips. Of course she'll have dinner with him tonight. Who couldn't have dinner with him tonight after that adorable note?

She grabs her rolling bag from the stewardess cab and gets off the plane once she's finished with her last cleaning, and she rolls it into the parking lot where she catches a cab. The fact that she still doesn't have a cab is upsetting, but she's getting so close to being able to afford a nice vehicle. She wants that nice vehicle even more when she gets in the cab and it smells like stinky feet. _I won't have to deal with this, soon. _

Gazing out the window, all she can think about is what he's doing right now. He's probably wandering down the aisles of the Kohls Supermarket, looking for just the right food to make for tonight. He's thoughtful like that, something she wishes she was better at. She should do something nice for him some time, other than just having great sex, but she can't ever think of anything sweet to do.

Before she realizes it, she's being told by the cabbie that this is her stop. She looks up suddenly, jerking from her daydream about her adorable man making some pasta or something for her. "Oh, sorry." She says, gathering her bag and her coat, wrapping the material around her and getting out. She walks up the steps and into the hall, taking the hidden key from the loose brick on the outside of the apartment. She unlocks the door and places the key back into its place, then steps into his apartment.

She looks around and rubs her arm, never having been in his apartment without him here. It feels cold, though. Even though it's just because there hasn't been a fire lit in the fireplace, she likes to think it's because he isn't here. Making her way to the bedroom where she's learned to keep a spare set of clothes, she locks the door and leaves her rolling bag in the living room beside the couch.

Undressing, she is completely oblivious to a few of the new things in his bedroom. One new thing, a trash can (which she finds by tripping over when she gets her foot tangled up in her panty-hose while taking them off). The second new thing, she finds as she pulls the blouse over her head and onto her body, is on his dresser in a pretty little frame. It's a picture of them. A picture of them on the beach from the Labor Day party, the party that broke them apart but then brought them even closer. She walks over in only a blouse, no pants yet, and picks the frame up into her fingers. She smiles softly and pushes her curls behind her ear. She can't remember when exactly that photo was taken...she was too drunk. But she loves the way they're looking at each other. He's got her wrapped in his arms, and she's looking back at him while he looks down at her. Both of them have big, loving smiles on their faces. They look like they're in lov-

"Well hey..." He says, smiling a bit. It almost makes her drop the frame in panic, but then she looks up with a smile after placing it back onto the dresser. "You beat me here." He chuckles, unbuttoning his white, long sleeve shirt that always goes underneath his coat.

The smile is still on her face as she goes back to her drawer in his dresser and grabs the pair of pants she keeps, "I didn't have to stop at the grocery store and shop aimlessly." She teases, smiling up at him once she gets the hem up around her waist. She reaches up to kiss his lips quickly, "The holiday passengers are always the best about cleaning up their trash, somehow." She states, shrugging a little as she stuffs her stewardess clothes into a plastic bag. "I always get out of there quick afterward."

"Holiday passengers truly are the best." He agrees, pulling a V-neck tee on over his head. "Until you get them on their way home. Then, they're cranky. Either they're cranky from having to spend days with in-laws, with parents, or because they're leaving their kids. Then, they're no fun."

She looks up at him, a small grin gracing her lips, "I guess I'm lucky. I don't really mind your mother. She's a sweet woman."

"Sweet?" He counters, chuckling, "Anything but sweet, Tri. She's a hellion."

With a roll of her eyes, she shakes her head and replies, "She is _not_. You just think that because she's your mother." She coos.

He laughs a bit and tilts his head over, pulling a pair of pants up. "I suppose you're right."

"When are you going to learn that I'm always right, Tom? Always...right..."

His brow raises and he looks over with a smirk before rushing over and picking her up, laughing. "You...are...so...not always...right..." He says, peppering kisses all over her face as he tries to speak. It makes her laugh uncontrollably and he has to laugh, too, "See? You know _I'm_ right."

"No, you aren't. You're just so delusional it makes me laugh." She smirks and puts the tip of her tongue on his nose, chuckling as he lets her stand up again.

He smiles softly, "Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes." He states, fixing his shirt. "I'm gonna put some wood in the fireplace and heat it up so we don't have to be so cold, though."

She nods and smiles up at him, "Okay." She says, her voice cracking a little bit from laughing so hard. "Sounds good to me...as long as I can make some coffee real quick."

"Of course you can."

**..**

…

_Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely__  
__I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue__  
__I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted__  
__And then someday you'd leave me for somebody new_

"That's my mother's favorite song." Trina admits, sipping at her coffee that she poured after dinner. She's curled up on the couch, not with Tom. He's sitting on the chair, looking at her. It feels comfortable. They don't always need to be on each other. "Crazy, by Patsy Cline..." She chuckles sadly, shaking her head as she keeps speaking, "I don't know why she loved that song so much. I don't know if she still loves it or not. But she always did...she drove me crazy by playing it so much." Tom laughs at the pun she throws in, and it makes her look up at him with a smile. "Yeah, that was cheesy...it's true. I just...I haven't found that song yet."

"What song are you talking about?" Tom asks, also sipping at his coffee. He drinks his black, though.

She bites her lip, a sense of shyness coming over her. "You know..._that _song. The one that you can listen to over and over, and over and over...driving everyone around you crazy just by hearing that song." She says, scrunching her face up in the way that makes Tom grin. "The song that every time you hear it, you think of someone...in a good way. I guess...I don't know if she ever thought of that song as a good thing or a bad thing." She states, shrugging her shoulders and gripping onto the cup with both hands now.

Looking up, she waits for him to speak. She wonders if he'll ask about her mother, but she doesn't even know what she'll say. She shouldn't have mentioned her mother at all. And then she jumps at his next words (or at least, she feels like she jumps), "Why do you and your mother not get along?"

"Not important." She answers defensively, looking away from him. Her mind immediately flashes back to the day he first asked about her...the day that he wanted her to babble:

"_Why don't you like your mother?"_

_That one stops her, she freezes in mid-bite and takes the slice away from her lips to set it back down on her plate. "I – that's a question for a later date, Tom." She says, the subject making her uneasy, clearly. "It's a hard subject for me."_

"_Okay." He says respectively, "May I ask why it's a hard subject?" He asks softly, curiously. He wants to know, she can feel that deep down he's trying to be respectful but it's hard. She wonders, again, why he cares, but she just tries to keep her calm since he's trying to be nice about it all._

_She swallows hard and looks down, picking at her nails in a nervous manner. "She's never been a great mother." She says, "And that's really all I want to say about it right now." She states, "Can we maybe have this conversation later? Like...some time way later? Over drinks one day? It's much easier for me to babble about my life when I'm slightly intoxicated." She admits, finally taking the slice back into her sort of shaky hands, looking up at him._

He pauses for a moment, and she wants to look at him...she hopes she didn't upset him. "Okay...fine...I'll wait on that answer." He says, and thankfully he doesn't sound hurt. "Will you tell me anything about her?"

She looks back at him again, a sad smile making her whole expression look broken. "Like what? Like how she used to drag me to...to galas? To political events for my father? She hated my father, and as soon as she-" She stops, she can't admit that. She's never told anyone. She's never let that leave her lips.

"As soon as she what, Tri?"

"Nothing." She answers. "Just drop it. Please." She sounds cruel, but she can't help it. She needs to let him know she's serious. She needs to stop him from asking..._now._ "I don't ever want to talk about it again. It's just something you'll never know about me, Tom."

Now her mind is buzzing with memories. The day her mother picked the knife up, stabbing him in front of his daughter. She didn't realize Trina was standing there, and Trina never told a soul. As crazy as her mother is, she would probably have killed Trina, too. She couldn't let anyone know what she saw. And it was all because her father no longer wanted to run for mayor, all because her mother was going to lose the social limelight. But then she killed him, and she got all the social attention she ever wanted. She even has a scholarship in her name, because of her dead husband. _How sickening. _

She doesn't know when he moved over to the couch, when he cradled her in his arms, but it startles her a little when he realizes that he's right there. "I know it's a hard subject. I don't know why. But one day, I'll find out. One day I'll finally peel back all of the layers that you have built up because of her, and I'll probably be shocked at the outcome but...oh well." He shrugs softly and presses a kiss to her cheek. "For now, though, I think you need to have your mind taken off of a few things."

Craning her neck back, she looks up at him with tears puddled in her eyes, "Like when I was a teenager...I used to run to my boyfriend for sex...to take my mind off of things..." She whispers, "Please just-"

He takes her cheek in his hands gently, pulling her face to look at him before he kisses her lips passionately. "I know what you want..." He mutters, "Let's go to my bedroom..."

"No...let's stay right here." She offers, "On your couch."

He looks down at her with a bit of a bewildered expression, and she suddenly wonders if he's ever had sex on this couch before. She pushes that thought to the back of her mind and brings his head down so she can kiss him again, and again, and again...and before she thinks about anything else, she's extending out and laying on her back so that he can lay on top of her.

She brings her leg up between him and the couch, wrapping it around his hip. "Clothes...off..." She hisses, and he's ripping her shirt over her head. She's thanking herself for making the decision to not wear a bra earlier (since he's already grasping at her breasts like they're a squeaky toy and he's a dog). Then she reaches for his shirt, too, pulling it off over his head. Her hands immediately working on his belt, sliding it out of the buckle and letting it hang there while she mangles the button and zipper until his pants are loose and able to easily be slipped off.

He helps her with the boxers, letting everything come off of him and get thrown onto the floor. She likes this. She likes the missed feeling of heat – of hot and heavy sex. The feeling that they can't get enough of each other quick enough. She likes that. She's missed that, she realizes, as he's throwing her panties on the floor beside his boxers.

The knot in her stomach tightens as his fingers are reaching between her legs, between their bodies, and feeling for any sign of wetness. And oh gosh, does he find it. She's hot, she's wet, she's ready. She doesn't even really need the foreplay tonight. She just wants him. "Tom...I'm good if you're good." It's all she can mutter out, and she hopes he doesn't take it as something like _let's get this over with_. That's not what she means.

But thankfully, he didn't, because he's showing her that he's hard and erect and also "good" as he puts the tip of him in her, making her groan loudly. "Shit, Tom..." She hisses, clenching her eyes shut and biting her jaws down hard. "Stop teasing."

She feels him smirk against her cheek, "I've missed this side of you sometimes..." He whispers before sliding all the way inside of her, making her other leg curl around his hip as well. She wraps her ankles around each other and moans, digging her nails into his back.

"I've missed this side of _you_." She answers, opening her eyes enough to see his staring back at her. "Now fuck me, Captain Decker..." She coos, smirking deviously and biting down on her lower lip so she won't smile. _Ah_, maybe not that hard so fast. But damn...it feels good. He's not hitting that spot yet, and she's beginning to think it's because he doesn't want to. He almost always can find the spot quick, quicker than this especially. Her hips roll up to meet his with his fast thrusts, and she's sweating already. "Yes..." She hisses through closed teeth, nodding. "Right..." She's trying to guide him, her body begging for him to find that spot inside of her. "No...not...yes..." He chuckles a little, then as though she flipped a switch on him, he pounds into that spot. _Yes, oh yes. _"That's it, Tom...gosh...please keep doing that."

"This?" He asks coyly, bringing two fingers down to rub circles on her throbbing clit, moaning a little as he leans down and kisses her. Her moans reverberate through his lips as she nods, answering his question in a desperate attempt to not unravel.

"That." She whispers, her stomach tightening. She can feel him tightening, too, and she hopes he can last longer than she can. At this rate, tonight, she's going faster than ever. "Please keep doing that..." She repeats, opening her eyes and kissing him hard.

Unraveling. Faster and faster. "Tri..." He hisses, closing his eyes.

"Just a little longer, Tom..." She whispers, "Just a little longer..." And fuck, yes..._yes. _"Yes! Please keep rubbing like that..."

His fingers are rubbing her maniacally in circles, making her moan loudly as she feels his cock twitch inside her. He's moaning her name already, needing a release, but she just needs a little bit more to- "_Oh!_" She cries out, clenching around him. Not a second later, he's emptying out inside of her.

Pulling out of her, he moans and kisses her hotly, "I love-" She stops herself when she sees his eyes widen, "I love having sex with you..." She whispers, swallowing thickly. What was she just about to say? Surely not that damn _L _word. Not because of this amazing sex.

"I love having sex with you too." He whispers, though his grin was apparent that he understood what almost happened. It disappeared when he kissed her again, and she hums contently.

"Bedtime, now..." She whispers tiredly, feeling completely worn out and used. A good used.

**..**

**...**

**Please keep the reviews coming :) It helped me write this one. I noticed a lot of you were missing the sex scenes so I made sure to add those in! I hope you enjoyed this! **

**G.**


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: Here's a Merry Christmas chapter :) my wifi has been out this past week and isn't expected to be back until at least this Saturday. So see y'all again soon! Enjoy and don't forget to review please!_

**_.._**

**_..._**

Eggnog. The last ingredient on her grocery list.

She hates grocery shopping with a passion, but when it's going just to get things for a Christmas party and things for mixed Christmassy drinks, she's sort of okay with it. It only makes it _slightly _better when she knows she'll be making "Frosty Noggins" for about thirty people later this evening (consisting of eggnog, vanilla ice cream, rum, and white crème de cacao). Yes, slightly better indeed.

She grabs a few containers of the eggnog and crosses it off of her paper list. "Okay." She breathes to herself, sighing softly and biting her lip as she double checks _just _to make sure she isn't missing anything. (She doesn't want to come back again, that's for sure. She may send Tom if she has to come back...ever).

Nodding once, she starts pushing the cart and walking without even looking up. She accidentally runs into Michelle, a nice woman of color. "Oh, hi." She says, a soft smile falling onto her lips. "Sorry I ran into you...I've just been trying to prepare for tonight. It's my first party in...a while." She admits with a little chuckle.

Michelle smiles at her, shaking her head, "It's fine...I understand." She says. Michelle has always been nice to Trina. She didn't know her very well until Tom's party at the beach. She and Anthony, her husband, are good friends of Tom's from when Tom was learning to be a pilot. Anthony, also, took the class, but ended up never getting his license and pursuing a different career in law. "At least I know the party will be great." She coos, smiling again as she sees the rum in the shopping cart.

Trina looks down with a grin, "Oh, definitely. Have you ever known Tom to have a party without alcohol?" She asks, laughing a little.

After some more small-talk with Michelle, she hurries to the check out line (after checking her grocery list one _last _time) so she can get back in time to prepare everything for their Christmas party. _Their _Christmas party. When Tom first pitched the idea, Trina loved it, but then she quickly realized he kept saying _their _party. She had asked him about a week ago, what exactly he meant – whether he was just meaning it different or whether he actually saw it as theirs.

"Well, you practically live here...it should be _our _party, right?" Was his answer. She's done a lot of thinking in that short week, and now, most of her things are at his apartment. Maybe she likes this a little more than she was originally thinking she would. But also, still that twinge of anxiety keeps pecking at her heart.

When she arrives to the apartment, she smiles a little at the sight of it all nicely decorated. Tom always has decorated for the holidays nicely, especially for a man. Most men aren't great at decorating a bedroom in usual circumstances, let alone in holiday circumstances. She has always guessed that his mom has something to do with him having a nice taste in design. She's never asked.

He's away at the airport, doing some paperwork that he's let go accidentally. Last minute things. She's beyond thankful that their crew has the weekend of Christmas off. It means that she gets to spend Christmas Eve with him, in his apartment, and Christmas morning with him, in his apartment, and Christmas day with him and his mother and his aunt and his family. _Family. _She wants to meet his family...

She shakes that thought from her head as she grabs the grocery items out of the bags and sets them on the counter top. Christmas songs are spinning on the record player, and she finds herself humming along slightly to them as she starts the preparation for the drink making. She's leaving the cooking to Tom (mostly because of the last holiday disaster – Thanksgiving dinner at his moms).

Checking the clock on the wall, she sees that people should start coming over in about an hour and a half, or so. Sometimes people will come early to these things, sometimes they show up late. You never know. She looks at it again, Tom should be home any minute, hopefully. The food needs started, even if it is just little finger foods such as pigs in a blanket and caramel corn...things that are, really, quite easy if you know how to cook at all. She should know how to do this stuff.

Once she finishes her preparations for the Frosty Noggins, she looks in the refrigerator and grabs the packs of little sausages that go in the "blankets" made of dough. She stares at them for way too long, wondering...thinking...doubting..._doubting. _More doubt, and more doubt, and then she's ripping the bag open and dumping those little things out on a plate. She takes one in her hand, studying it as well, and finally lays it back down with the others. She huffs to herself, swallowing thickly before turning to the fridge and grabbing the dough he had made last night. _You can do this, Trina. This is your first step. _She keeps the pep talk going as she cuts the dough into strips, making it the size to wrap around the little weiners.

She smirks to herself as she picks up the sausage she had earlier, studying it again. "Tom would get a kick out of this." She whispers to herself, chuckling a bit as she wraps the dough around the sausage in her fingers. Reminds her of something all too dirty.

One after one, she's wrapped the sausages in the dough perfectly and making herself quite proud at the same time. Maybe she _should _learn to cook more. She kind of likes the feeling.

As the pan is in the oven for the amount of time suggested on the package of sausages (she didn't notice it before, but it gives a full recipe for the dough and everything on the side of the package for the pigs in a blanket! _Nifty._), she hears the door open and she turns to see Tom walking through. She smiles big and warm, taking the little apron off that she had been wearing. "Hey." She says softly, keeping the warmness in her smile as he walks to her and kisses her cheek. "How was paperwork?"

"Horrible." He answers, a sad chuckle following. "And it took way longer than I had thought...which means I don't have as much time to fix the-"

"Pigs in a blanket?" She asks, pointing toward the empty bag of sausages in the trash can. She gives him the same proud smile that she had earlier when she saw them all finished (before cooking them, of course), "I made them. I actually..._cooked_ something. And it's not burning yet." She chuckles, biting her lip as she awaits his response.

He looks over at the oven, just now realizing that it's on and has been on for a while. "Not burning?" He asks, a brow raised.

She chuckles sadly and steps over while in his arms, opening the oven door for him to see. "Not burning." She confirms. "They should be done in..." She pauses and looks over at the clock again, then nods, "In about three minutes or so."

Looking back into his eyes, she sees the pride in them. She can't see his eyes anymore, suddenly, because hers are closed and his lips are meeting hers for a loving kiss. He pulls away slowly, "I'm so proud of you, Tri." He whispers, kissing her nose in a loving manner and smiling at her. "So proud."

She smiles shyly, feeling an awkward sense fall over her as she steps away from him and tucks her hair behind her ear. "Thank you..." She says softly, "I, ah, I was hoping you would be proud. I...I suppose since we're sort of living together that I should learn to cook."

He laughs a little bit, nodding, "I suppose you should." He teases, kissing the top of her head. "Now I'll get onto the caramel corn." He announces, stepping over to the counter, "Wanna help?" He asks softly.

Thinking for a moment, she sighs and acts uninterested, "Hm, sure..." She coos, walking over to the grocery bags. "I suppose." She smirks when she looks over her shoulder to see him staring at her.

He slinks over to her, wrapping his fingers around her waist and gently pressing her back to the counter. "Are you being coy with me?" He asks playfully, bringing his other hand to her head and running gentle fingers through the curls above her ear. He smiles when she looks down and is about to speak, "Mm, don't answer that, actually." He whispers and leans down to kiss her, bringing both hands down to around her ass and underneath. He clamps his fingers together and lifts her up onto the counter.

"Oh! Tom!" Trina exclaims, hitting his shoulder. "Stop...we have to finish the caramel corn before everyone gets here." She whispers, looking around as if someone were going to hear her.

He chuckles and takes her chin gently in his fingers, moving her face to look at his smirk. "Who are you whispering for?" He asks, his lips brushing hers with each word. "There's no one here but us."

She leans her forehead onto his and shakes her head softly, smiling down between them, "Why do you have me on the counter?" She asks, though she knew the answer already. She knew he sat her up here for one reason – a good reason. He wanted to take her pants down her legs, throw them over the back of the bar chair – her panties joining short after. He wanted to strip himself of his pants and fuck her senseless right here on this counter where they're supposed to be preparing caramel corn for a party that guests will be showing up to in, oh...fifteen minutes, or so.

Before answering, he leans over to the kitchen radio and turns it on. Tom Jones, She's a Lady – one of his favorite songs. She knows it, so she smirks a bit up to him and runs her fingers gently down his ribs.

_Well she knows what I'm about_

_She can take what I dish out and that's not easy_

"I think you know the answer to your own question." He murmurs, a low, husky tone of voice rings through her ears. Chills run down her spine, and she closes her eyes after biting her lower lip softly.

_But she knows me through and throughout_

Nodding a little, she answers, "I think I do." and then pauses to look up into his eyes, "But we're about to have guests over – very soon, at that, Tom." She warns, a serious expression appearing on her face (even if she didn't want to listen to herself). "I want it as much as you do but-" a kiss interrupts her, and she's distracted momentarily by his tongue sliding over her lower lip. She pulls away and looks up with a devious smirk.

_And she knows just what to do and how to please me_

"You know how to please me. Even if it is a quickie." He reminds her, smiling as his fingers are roaming around her breast, teasing her skin by dipping into the top of her shirt and swooping back out. "Tri..." He begs, just enough to make her shudder.

_She's a lady_

"Tom..." She warns again, looking around and letting out a shaky sigh. "I don't want to be caught."

_Oh, whoa, whoa she's a la-_

There go the pants, and she's lost then. It happens just as she planned in her head, her pants and panties quickly made their way to the back of the chair and his pants are down around his ankles. He makes a baby step forward and leans into her lips with a heavy groan, "Tri..." He murmurs, pulling away only to pull her shirt down slightly, sneaking his fingers into the top of her bra and finding her nipple, giving it a gentle twist. She tries mumbling something about how they shouldn't do this, but he's stopping her by bringing her legs up on his shoulders, letting them rest there as he bends over and places his head between them like it just belongs there.

And her mind right now, it does belong there. When she grabs a fistful of his hair and presses his face harder into her center, she lets out a loud moan of approval. "Okay...we should be doing this. We should." She hisses, her head falling back and one hand quickly moving behind her to support her weight. She feels lightheaded, but then again, she always does when his tongue is working her clit. He always makes her feel like she's floating, just with that damned tongue.

She grips onto his arms as his hands knead (somewhat recklessly) at her upper thighs. They slide up and desperately grips at his shoulders, scraping her nails through his shirt from behind his back, down to his elbows. "Yes..." He whispers against her clit, her breasts practically resting on his head as she's all bent over. She can feel him shudder beneath her and against her, and it makes her eyes close hard.

"Fuck me, Tom...quickly..." She hisses, and she can't hardly finish the sentence before he's standing up and adjusting himself at her entrance. She takes his throbbing cock in her hand, "Let me." She offers, giving a gentle yank and lining him up with her. He almost trips from his pants being around his ankles, and it makes her laugh quietly before leaning into him and pressing her lips to his. "Fuck me, Tom..." She whispers again, right against his lips.

In just a second, she was being filled and letting out a soft whimper. Her fingers grab another fistful of his hair, right at the nape of his neck, and he's mumbling, "How are you always so tight?" as he starts slowly moving in and out of her, his cock moving all the way inside of her before moving back to just his tip.

She doesn't understand it, but maybe it's just good genes. She _is_ always tight, and _fuck _does it feel good. "Maybe we just don't fuck enough..." She moans, grabbing at his head to bury it into her breasts, leaning down a bit to kiss all down his neck and shoulder.

"Is that an invitation to do this more often?"

She huffs and smirks at him, murmuring, "Since when do you need an invitation?" and leaving a few marks down his chest for good measure. He doesn't answer this time, too immersed in finding her clit with his fingers. She can feel him getting close already, it reminds her of a teenage boy. He's not lasting long, but she can't blame him. They're both rushing.

Her head is leaned back when he moans, "I'm about to come, Tri..." and brings his hands to her breasts to knead at them.

She momentarily looks down between them at his cock getting faster, going in and out of her. She thinks for a second, and then lets out a quiet sigh. She moans, and suddenly it becomes completely fake. "Mmm, yes, Tom..." She moans, clenching around him on purpose and letting out a sharp cry before he empties out inside of her.

His smile is big – a little bit of male pride, maybe, for making her cry out like that, but he doesn't have a bit of realization that she completely faked it. His kiss is warm and sweet as he reaches over for her pants and panties, helping her put her shirt back on. "Thanks for agreeing to a quickie." He whispers, quickly kissing her one more time before pulling his pants up.

She hops off the counter with a hand from him, then goes off to the bathroom with cum dripping down her leg. She rinses off a little bit in the bathroom and looks out the door, watching him happily make caramel corn. It made her heart break that she just lied to him over an orgasm, but she just wanted to be able to give him pleasure before getting caught. It felt good, but there wasn't enough time. She was never good at quickies.

**..**

…

"He sure is a happier man with you in his life, Trina." Michelle states, smiling over at the her.

Trina feels her heart warm, even though her throat and stomach is cold from the amount of Frosty Noggin she's drinking at the moment. She knows to take it as a compliment, because Michelle has known Tom for quite a while now. Tom attended Anthony and Michelle's wedding, even. Nodding, she shifts her weight and looks in to see him in the living room with the other guests. "This is our first Christmas together." She states, not wanting to add on to what Michelle had said. "Our first Thanksgiving didn't go over too well, as you know..."

She can tell that the other woman is trying not to laugh, and she just nods, "Mhm, I heard about the fiasco." She says, laughing a little bit now that she just can't hold it in. "But I think it drew you two closer, didn't it?" She asks, taking a sip at her drink.

Nodding, she looks back at Michelle again and leans against the counter (the one he just fucked her against. Yes, that counter.) "I think you're right, it probably did. I know it made me feel better about his family. I had this...high expectation I made up in my head that they were expecting. Or that I imagined they expected. In reality, they didn't care how dorky I ended up being. I'm sophisticated to a certain point, but when I try to be..." She sighs, "I fail. Horribly, too."

Michelle can only laugh and shake her head before replying, "Tom and Mel are two very special people. His dad is special, too, but Mel is just spectacular. They aren't...sophisticated people."

"Oh I know." Trina answers, looking down into her drink that she's swirling around. "I just was nervous, I guess."

The other woman pats her wrist softly, "Well, I'm glad you got over your jitters."

Trina smiles up at her a little, "Thank you, Michelle. It means a lot from you."

**..**

…

The party died down, the drinks got put away and the caramel corn pan were sticky – but empty. Everyone had gone to their homes for the night, preparing for the next day of Christmas Eve. Trina and Tom spent the day together, lying around, watching movies and eating the little bit of caramel corn that Tom had set aside for themselves. Now, the night of Christmas Eve, they're still in the same position they'd been all day. Wrapped in each other, Trina leaning against his chest, and watching Rudolph.

The movie was just ending, and she cranes her neck to look up at him, "Can I give you your present tonight? One of your presents?" She asks, batting her sleepy eyes as she awaits his answer.

He nods softly, yawning a little bit. "Yeah, sure." He says, "As long as I can give you one of your presents."

With a smile, she nods and stands up, walking tiredly to the Christmas tree with the presents that have been wrapped. When she leans down, he gives a coy whistle because his shirt comes up and shows her ass – even though it was still covered by flannel pajamas. She looks back with a playful grimace, "Oh stop." She teases, "We're not doing this on Christmas Eve."

He smiles at her, blows her a playful kiss, and then gets up and grabs her present, too. They sit down right there in front of the tree and hand each other the small, wrapped up boxes. "You first." He says, pressing the present against her leg softly as he looks in her eyes.

Taking it in her hand, she grins at him shyly. "This is the first year that I've ever had a boyfriend who gave me presents."

"What about Luke...?"

She snorts a sad laugh, "He was too cheap." She admits, smiling up at him before unwrapping the present carefully. She takes the box into her hand, and it's a deep blue, velvet box, longer than a ring (thankfully). She opens it, but her eyes are fixated up at him with a small smile. "I'm glad it's not a ring." She admits, looking down finally.

He smiles back at her and his eyes drift down to the box as she opens it, "Not yet." He whispers, she only hears it halfway.

The jewelry in the box was a gorgeous, silver necklace, "Oh, Tom...this is beautiful." She says, picking it up from the box and examining it. The Christmas lights on the tree make it glisten so beautifully. Once she realizes how long she's been staring at it, she looks up at him with a big smile, "Thank you, Tom. This...this is beautiful."

His smile is big, too, and he nods. "You're more than welcome, Tri. You deserve it."

She swallows thickly as she hands it to him, turning around slightly so he can clasp it around her. Once he's finished, she strokes it lovingly. "Beautiful." She whispers again, completely in awe that he would give her such a nice piece of jewelry. She halfway expected him to be silly, since she would normally be the one giving nice things and he would give her something goofy. Now she turns to him and coaxes him to open hers, "Okay, your turn."

He smiles at her again and unwraps it, picking the shirt up out of the paper. "Oh I love it." He says, chuckling softly.

She smirks, "You do?" She says, "Sorry you gave me something so nice and yours is silly..."

He laughs and shakes his head, "No, no. I love this." He says, putting it up and resting it on his chest. It says, _my girlfriend is cooler than yours. _Nodding, he lays it down and leans forward to kiss her. "Yep. It's perfect." He smiles, kissing her again.

**..**

…

"There's the mistletoe." Mel teases Trina.

She's spent the whole day with she and Tom at Mel's place. Exchanging presents, eating wonderful, homemade food (thanks to Mel and Tom. Trina took no participation this time), and just talking and enjoying each other's company.

Trina laughs and shakes her head, "We don't need mistletoe. We kiss enough..." She teases back, nudging his mother on the arm playfully and popping a deviled egg into her mouth. She picks up her drink once Tom comes back from the bathroom, "I'd like to make a toast." She states, "To family."

Tom looks at her, slightly dumbfounded, and Mel lifts her drink up to Trina's, "To family." She says, waiting for Tom to follow them.

Once he picks his drink up, it makes Trina feel better about her toast. He smiles, nods, and lifts his drink to clink theirs, "To family." He says, "Merry Christmas."

**..**

**...**

_Don't forget to review, please :) Thank you!_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the shorter chapter, here, but I wanted to get something out quickly but make it a little longer than this, and then I realized that I wanted to make it stop right where I did...a little cliff hanger :)_

_Hope y'all enjoy! Sorry it takes me so long to update this right now, but during the holidays, my job is crazy hours. I'm trying to update more, though! Love y'all and I sooo appreciate when you review, so I know where to go with this story. I read each and every review and take in to consideration what y'alls thoughts are on where the story should go. So please, if you have an idea that you may want in the story, feel more than free to tell me._

_If I can't update before Christmas, I hope y'all have a merry Christmas! (Hopefully I'll update before that lol)._

_G._

**_..._**

**_..._**

"Not right now, Tom." Her voice is stern, and she's pressing a hand against his chest. "We don't have enough time."

"Time?" He asks, raising a brow. "Don't you remember Christmas day?"

She looks away at those words. Christmas Day – just a few days ago – the day she faked it during their last quickie. She hasn't told him and has no plans to, either. "Tom, we have to leave in five minutes. We don't have time." She says, a bit of grouchiness in her tone as she finishes the last button on her blouse for work. "Besides, I'm just not in the mood right now."

He frowns slightly, trying to study her (she can feel his heavy gaze). "What's up?" He asks, raising that brow again as he awaits her answer, moving toward her with his shirt still completely unbuttoned and un-tucked from his unbuttoned pants.

He wraps an arm around her, pressing his lips to her cheek as she says, "I'm just not in the mood." and walks out of his arms.

She hates leaving him hanging like that, but she doesn't feel like explaining her feelings to him right now. Not before she has a flight to Miami with him and the rest of their flight crew. Patty has been in the Christmas spirit still, even though Christmas has been almost a week ago and it's now the day before New Years Eve. She doesn't feel like dealing with Patty, nor customers who are depressed that they're leaving their families and going home from the holidays spent with loved ones.

She takes the nice tennis bracelet that Tom gave her over Christmas, laying it softly over her wrist and clasping it together. She shouldn't wear it on flights – not because they're not allowed to have jewelry (because they are), but because of passengers who are feeling a bit broke from all of the Christmas shopping. They get desperate, needy, and way too handsy. She hopes that Patty will take the back of the plane today, just so she can be in the front. Usually there's more crying babies in the back.

He's still watching her, even though she's on her way out the door to climb into his car. She's so grateful that she no longer has to take taxis, but also not too keen on riding with Tom when he's dying to know what's wrong with her attitude this morning. _It's too early to be telling him what's going on, _she thinks as she gets in, looking at her watch that only says 5:30 AM. She'll wait, if she even tells him at all.

"Trina-"

"Don't." She snips, keeping her gaze straight forward toward the apartment building. "I told you, I don't want to talk about it."

He lets out a huff of annoyance and shakes his head, backing out of the parking spot, "I was just going to ask if you had a comb with you." He says, straightening out his hair, now, with his hands instead of a comb.

She looks over at him momentarily, wondering if he was really going to ask for a comb, until she saw him. It. His pants: still unbuttoned, his shirt: still unbuttoned, his tie: still untied. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, looking over her right shoulder and out the passenger window to watch the other cars go by. "Un-professional." She mutters, leaning her cheek on her fist, her forehead lazily resting against the glass.

The day goes on; Patty takes the back (for the first time in forever), Trina keeps her tennis bracelet in sight – stays away from pesky passengers, and eats a lot of bagged chips on the flight to keep her mind off of things. Sometimes she'll eat the chips that she keeps in her rolling bag. It's better than the snacks they give out here, usually.

Over the intercom, she hears Tom paging her. She hesitates to get up, but realizes since she's in the front it may not be a personal reason. He may actually need something from her, other than just her time or her kisses. Finally, she sets the bag of chips down on the counter in the pantry, and walks into his cab. "Yes?" She asks, dryness in her voice with no enthusiasm whatsoever. She keeps it at that one word, and Rex looks up when he doesn't hear her normal, "_hello, Captain Dicker", _or something else stupid and lovey like that. But she makes him look back into the clouds as soon as she shoots the co-pilot a harsh glare.

Tom looks at her and stands up, "You never brought me any coffee this morning." He says.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, your majesty. Let me go do that _right _away." She smarts off, turning on her heel and folding her arms across her upper stomach, rolling her eyes once she's looking at the door to the main piece of the plane.

She stops – against her will, but stops nonetheless, when she feels his hand grasp around her arm, just above her elbow. "Trina, can we talk or something?" He asks, completely lost and confused on what is going on.

Trina simply looks over at Rex, who was giving them privacy by sight but more than likely listening to every word they were saying. "No." She simply replies, "We can't. Let me go get your coffee, and please don't keep grabbing me." She says, shrugging his hand off of her. She's stayed in the exact same position the whole time, and she turns again and actually makes it out of the cab this time without him grabbing her or saying something.

Honestly, she doesn't care about his feelings right now. Hers are too crushed to think much of him, let alone how he's feeling. She considers spitting in his coffee, but decides he's not quite worth her saliva. Instead, she makes a cup of decaf (usually it's regular, with a load of sugar). Decaf, no cream, no sugar. She brings it into the cab and sets it down in his mug holder with a thud. She doesn't look to see if he's watching her, she doesn't look to see how big a mess that made when she plopped the black coffee down into his holder. She simply leaves. She doesn't care.

He can't do anything about it, anyway. They're on a plane full of people who would probably form a mob if they saw him come out here and start fighting with one of the flight attendants.

Two nights ago, Trina stayed back at her apartment for the first time in what felt like forever. The day after, she came back to Tom's while he was grocery shopping. She listened to his messages, just like usual. She watered his plants, just like usual. But she knew she'd never be the same, never feel the same, once he came home. She knew, now, it was close to the end. She's just trying to get another route before a big break up happens. She doesn't want to deal with the man on a day-to-day basis once they're no longer a couple.

She even considered laying the tennis bracelet on his dresser, leaving not even a note. No sign of her leaving, other than that tennis bracelet. She was going to take a bus to New York, try to find some whore house or something that she could maybe get herself in to. She had seriously thought about it, until he suddenly came home.

Now, sitting in the backwards seat on this plane, she wishes she would've thought faster that day. She wishes she would've left without ever having to see him again. He hadn't even noticed that she was beside herself all night last night, he was too busy watching those damn game shows on the television. Not her type of thing, and she hadn't ever thought of it being his type of thing, either, until he started them the day after Christmas. He always seemed to have time for the television, but never enough time for her. She's done with it.

She picks underneath her acrylic nail – the one she chipped the paint off of accidentally this morning when she was in a hurry to slam down in his car. It's only 9:50, but she wants the day to be over with. She just wants _everything _to be over with, after what happened yesterday. Before she realizes it, she's accidentally dozed off (surely from the lack of sleep, tossing and turning did her no good last night). That is, until she heard Patty's annoying voice, "What the hell are you doing?"

Trina shifts a little and opens an eye, realizing she's still on the plane. She lets a drawn out, upset sigh out and stretches a little. "I didn't sleep well last night." She explains. Why? She's not sure. She doesn't need to explain herself to Patty.

"Well, chop his dick off and you won't have that problem." She sneers, "You have very unhappy passengers in row eight. They've been waiting for you to come take their order of drink for ten minutes now."

"I was asleep that long?" She asks, somewhat astonished that she'd slept that soundly in such a short time.

Patty huffs, "Hell if I know." She says, turning away and rushing back to the back of the plane to tend to her passengers, now.

Trina would shoot her the middle finger if she weren't on a plane filled with a bunch of passengers, who are now watching her. Instead, she stands up and stretches a little bit more, going to the row Patty said, first, and then taking the orders of others for their drinks and snacks. _What a life._

…

…**..**

"Okay, seriously Tri, what the hell is going on?" He asks, now getting overly irritated with her. He even pulls over in the middle of the dark road.

She looks at the clock (10:57 PM), "You're going to get us killed on this damn highway, pulling over like this. Get back on the road." She barks, never looking at him once her eyes leave the radio clock. "Now." She snarls when he doesn't move the car out of park after about thirty seconds.

"Since when do you control me?" He asks, dumbfound at her behavior all day. "Since when do you have such an _attitude?_"

That's what does it. She was mad before, but now she's been lit like a firecracker. She's ready to explode, and he better wish that they weren't in a tight little space such as this car. "Me?! My attitude?! Tom, when was the last time we had an actual date night? Not even that, no, but-" She stops and feels her body throbbing – she knows her face has to be beat red by now. It does it when she gets mad. "But you – oh, you. You wanna know who came to visit you the other day? And who was disappointed to find out you weren't there at the time? You're pregnant ex-fiancee. Yes, fiancee. I know, now, thanks to Tonya. You must have a thing for girls with names that start with _T, _don't you, Tom? You like the way it sounds against your tongue while you're having sex with us, since that's all you do? Then, _OOPS!_ Once they're pregnant, you leave them. She's eight months pregnant, Tom. You told me she was your girlfriend, and that you broke it off."

"I did! Six months ago! A month and a half before we started dating, Tri-"

"Don't call me Tri!" She snaps, completely fired up and angry. "You told me she was your _girlfriend. _Fiancee?! You put a ring on her finger after three years of dating her, then took it back and said you just weren't right for her. _Because of me! _Do you realize how mortifying and embarrassing it was for me to answer your door with your pregnant ex-fiancee standing there, high hopes of finding _you?_ No, you don't. Because you never consider anyone's feeling but yourself, Tom. Hers, mine, that _baby's. _Your baby! Your baby, Tom!" She yells out, making her own ears ring from the tight proximity of the car's space, but not even noticing. She was too mad. She's never been this mad before. "That means you would've left as soon as she told you. She would've been about two months when you left her, she should've known by then that she was pregnant. You're such a low-life that I-"

"Stop." He snaps, his voice stern and low. "Just stop it right there. Yes, she was my fiancee. I said she was my girlfriend, because I knew you'd be even more upset that I broke it off with her just so I could be with you. Remember that night I told you that's why I broke it off with her? I told you I couldn't be faithful to her when I saw you walk in on that plane the very first day? Yeah, that was all true, still. And that baby isn't mine. There's no way." He snaps.

"No way? Tom, you just had sex three nights ago with me, you just had sex five nights ago with me, _and _before the Christmas party with me. You tried it this morning, too. You think you didn't knock her up with your hatred for condoms?" She scoffs, rolling her eyes sadly. "Right. Keep thinking that. She's as big as a whale and it's your fault, you bastard." She snaps, opening the door and stepping out in the three inches of snow on the side of the road. It was freezing cold, she had her jacket on, but nothing on her head and no gloves. She felt the cold burning through her skin immediately, but it felt good because of how hot she'd gotten when she was so angry at first. She's still angry, now, but at least it's not all wanting to come out anymore. She doesn't have anything to hide from him.

She'd slammed the door shut, but he reached over and opened it, driving slowly beside her as she walked. "Trina, I honestly didn't know about the baby. If it's even mine." He says, and she quickly realizes his voice is cracking badly. He's holding tears back, or he's already started crying. She can't tell, it's too dark to see his face. "Why was she even there?"

Trina looks at him sharply, a sad but still disappointed expression on her face as she says, "She was hoping you'd take her back. She can't work right now, she's too pregnant." She says, slamming the door shut again. However, it did no good, because it simply flew back open again when he reached over to pull the handle.

"What did you say?" He asks.

She keeps her gaze straight forward, now. "I said that, first, I was the girl Tom was dating, since she thought I was a housekeeper. You're ex is a real bitch." She snaps, getting all her steam out while she's mad. "And then I said you weren't home, but by then she'd thrown the glass plate of cookies at me that she was coming to bring you. Hit me, hurt me, bruised me. But instead of telling you, I simply closed the door and threw everything away. You're lucky I didn't leave then, because I was going to. Now, oh...now I'm going back to your apartment and getting every little thing I own and at least going back to my apartment to live in now. I never want to see your bastard face again."

With that, she keeps walking, and finally hitches a ride with a random stranger. She hopes to never have to see him again.

**_..._**

**_..._**

_A/N: Oooooh, cliffhanger. So exciting. I don't recall ever putting a cliffhanger in this story before. :)_


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: Hey guys! Here's a much quicker update since I couldn't leave y'all hanging too long with the last chapter :) **_

_**Now, read the author's note at the end so that you know what's going on in the next chapter, too, and make sure to review so that I know how you're liking it, and that I know where to take the story. I'm writing it with your help.**_

_**Thanks! Enjoy!**_

_**G.**_

**_.._**

**_..._**

It'd been so long since she felt a man's touch other than Tom's. She forgets how rough Tom can be sometimes, and how gentle other men can be.

And she learned last night, just how gentle a complete stranger can be. This complete stranger's name is Doug, she found out. His last name? Hell if she knows. One night stands were always her thing, and now that she's trying to forget Tom, she's trying her best to get back to the normal, yet completely un-normal life she used to lead.

She woke up in his arms, and he was watching her. It startled her, but he had the most beautiful blue eyes and dark brown hair to go with it, so it made her relax a bit more. With a smile, she said, "Good morning." and tapped him on the nose tiredly. She stretched out a little bit after he returned her gesture with a smile, and she groaned, humming as she opened her eyes. "Mmm, I have to get going. Thank you for taking all of my things back to my apartment last night..."

He'd smiled, said, "Thanks for your form of payment." and rolled onto his back, stretching as well. "I should get your number?" He suggested.

She'd sat up somewhere after her last sentence to him, then looked over and laid a hand on his chest. "No one gets my number, honey." She coos, then rolls out of bed gracefully, fluffing her hair up in the back, and collecting her scattered clothes across the room.

She has to admit, it's nice to have sex with someone else for the first time in three months, almost four. But at the same time, deep down inside her gut, there's a feeling she doesn't want to admit – she misses Tom already.

…

…**..**

She arrives at her apartment via taxi cab. She unpacks her suitcase full of clothing from Tom's house, and puts her shoes back in her closet where they belong. Once everything is put away, she seats herself on the edge of her mattress, staring blankly into the wall. Deep in thought, she wonders what Tom's doing right now. If he's back at Tonya's, trying to help her, or if she's there, and they're doing things she doesn't want to think about (the thought makes her sick with jealousy, actually). She can't help but feel curious about her ex's whereabouts, and she wishes she could just forget about him altogether.

Nasty bastard, lying to her like she's some sort of item that has no feelings. That had become a pattern, she's realized, after Thanksgiving. Sex, sex, and sex. No dates, no fun, just sex. She loved the sex as much as he did, but she also wanted to be treated with value – not a hole to put his dick in.

A dick, mind you, that has been in between his pregnant ex-fiancee's legs. That makes her sick, too, knowing that she was pregnant and he was with her. She felt horrible, maybe a bit guilty for taking Tom away from Tonya in her time of need. But then again, Tom shouldn't have been so easy to leave her. Trina didn't make him leave, he chose to leave.

Thinking that, now, she decides to get up and try to not think about him by making her some breakfast. She still can't cook, but she can at least scramble some eggs now, thanks to Mel.

Even though Tom didn't turn out good for her, she's so glad that she met Mel. She'll never regret spending the time with her that she did. The older woman taught her many things, gave her some wonderful advice, and of course gave her some amazing nails each and every time Trina would go in. She didn't even know how to boil water, let alone scramble an egg or fry some bacon for a BLT, but Mel taught her. She was like a mother to Trina, and she wouldn't ever be able to thank her enough.

Once she scrambled two eggs, she sat down at her little breakfast nook, staring out of the window of her apartment. The neighborhood was trashy, unlike Tom's. _There's him again, _she thinks to herself, scooping in another bite of eggs. She wants to stop thinking about him, but her mind just buzzes more and more every time she tries. It's like everything inside of her wants to think about him, except for her broken heart.

Suddenly not hungry, she puts her plate of half-eaten eggs to the side of the table and faces fully toward the window, her arms wrapping around her stomach tightly. She may not realize it right now, but she's in denial that they're really not together anymore. She wouldn't kiss him underneath the fireworks in the park tonight to bring in the New Year of 1972. Not the way she'd been planning it. Especially not the way she'd planned it, when his ex came into the picture with a baby.

Looking back for the phone, she wonders why he hasn't tried to call yet. Maybe he has, maybe he even came over and she wasn't here to greet him. Maybe he's tried, but it broke his heart, too, because she wasn't there.

But then again, who cares. He broke her heart first, she should be allowed to break his harder. Stab a knife through it like he did hers, but she could twist her knife. She wants to twist her knife. The thoughts bring stinging tears to her eyes, and she has to blink them away. One falls, though, and falls down onto her shirt. She looks down to see the drip of water, then realizes – she's still wearing his shirt. She thought she was crazy when she kept smelling him, but it was his shirt. _His scent. Dammit._

Just then, the phone rings. She jumps up desperately – too desperately. In her realization of how horrible that was to be so needy, she calmed herself before answering, "Hello?"

And to her disappointment, it wasn't Tom. It was Tonya. "Hi, is this Trina?"

"Tonya?"

"Yes..."

Trina could feel the anger bubble in her stomach. Who does she think she is calling her? What gives her the right to call her? Nothing. That's what gives her the right, absolutely nothing. "Why in hell are you calling here? How did you get my number?"

She clears her throat, and then she starts talking again, "Trina, Tom's been out all night looking for you. He asked me to call hourly until you picked up. He went to your apartment, and nothing...so-"

"He came here?" Trina interrupts, having to sit down on the chair that she keeps by the telephone. Her legs felt shaky, and she felt a tad bit dizzy. It was for the best that she just take a seat and hear Tonya out.

Once Tonya replies with a yes, she goes on, "He's been all over Chicago, just about. Trina, please just come see him. He should be coming home any minute now, he has a lot of explaining to do to you, and so do I." She says shakily, "Just...before you make your decision, I want you to know that Tom told me what happened last night. He said you thought the baby was his? It wasn't...the baby is one I conceived while cheating on him. He had every right to break things off with me, but he didn't know I was pregnant. I hardly even knew I was pregnant." She explains. "He's worried sick about you." She finishes, the sincerity in her voice making Trina feel even more sick than she had felt before.

She can't say anything, and she hears Tonya's voice asking if she's still on the line, but she just can't bring her voice to the top of her throat. She'd just gone out last night after breaking up with him for nothing, and had sex with a stranger all for nothing, and got depressed over him – _for nothing_. She drops the phone, leaving it dangling for about three minutes before finally picking it back up and putting it back on the hook.

She's not going to let him go, not after what Tonya just said.

…

…**..**

A cab and an hour later, she's arriving at his apartment complex. Thankfully, she sees his car there. _He's not out in danger, he's not crashed somewhere from being too sleepy. He's here. He's safe. He's home. He's waiting for her. _

She walks up the stairs to his apartment door and knocks. It feels awkward to knock on a door that she has a key to, but she feels that she probably should considering all that happened.

When the door opens, it's Tonya's big belly that she sees first. She frowns a bit, hoping to see Tom there, but Tonya lets her in. "He's in the kitchen." She states, and Trina passes the pregnant woman by and runs into the kitchen. She hugs him tightly and squeezes her eyelids shut as she says, "Tonya explained..."

He holds her back just as tightly, pulling her into his body and burying his face down into the crook of her neck. "Gosh, Trina, I was so scared to lose you." He admits. "Please don't ever leave me again, okay? Or if you want to, just talk to me first...don't just storm out like that. _Please._" He begs, shaking his head inside her neck. "I was so worried about you. Where were you?" He asks as he pulls her away gently.

She wasn't crying yet, but she was close to it. He wipes his tears off as she gathers her breath to speak, "I was with someone named Doug. And yes, before you ask, I did sleep with him." She says, being open and honest to him. She felt like she needed to tell him. She felt like if he would've told her that Tonya wasn't his girlfriend, but his fiancee, it would've gone over smoother. So if she would've lied and said she was just at a hotel, it would've blown up. "He was good but I missed you so much." She whispers sadly, "That wasn't what I wanted last night. I wanted to just be held instead of fucked." She admits, quiet enough so that Tonya couldn't hear their conversation.

He pushes her curls from her face, kissing her nose. "Holding you is my favorite thing to do. And yes, you were right. I've been treating you like an object instead of a woman. _I'm _sorry too. And I should've told you about the fiancee thing, but I was scared to lose you. I never expected it to blow up like this..."

Looking down, she nods and takes a shaky breath. "Now, before we go any further, it's for sure not your baby?"

"For sure not my baby." He whispers. "She told me everything. I knew she'd cheated but we were trying to make it work. And then you came, and it was like my sign to break it up." He states, shaking his head, "I made you feel like the other woman, but I promise you that you weren't. I broke it off with her, and then it was more than two weeks after that I started pursuing you hard."

She nods, feeling a happy but sad feeling. She can't figure out why this sadness was still in the pit of her belly – she should be happy. But she is guessing its because of the fact that he still lied to her. He still hurt her, just not as badly as she'd originally thought. She shouldn't have overreacted, but she had every reason to do so.

At this time, Tonya is waddling in. "I should be on my way." She says, grabbing her purse and things.

"Wait-" I say, "If you need somewhere to stay-"

"Tom's made arrangements for me to live with Mel until I can work again." She says, smiling sadly. "He's a good guy, Trina. Better than I deserve. Please, just take good care of him for me."

Trina looks back at Tom who was keeping a serious, sad look on his face. She then nods, realizing that he is a good man, truly. Everyone has their flaws. "He is a good guy." She agrees, "Let us know when the baby comes. I'll bring gifts." She replies, smiling softly to her.

"Oh, I'm sure Ma will tell us." Tom corrects, and Trina laughs.

"I'm sure she will."

…

…**..**

They decided (because of the circumstances) to not go out tonight. To spend New Year's Eve in with just the two of them, some mimosas, and the finger foods that they made earlier that day. Now, it was almost time for the ball to drop, for them to bring in the year 1972 together, and they were curled up on the couch eating some freshly popped popcorn.

She feels his eyes on her, so she looks up, "Yes?" She asks, popping another piece into her mouth.

His smile is, of course, adorable. Goofy and sort of sideways like he gets when he's admiring her. "I'm just really glad I have someone who'll listen to me and hear me out, who gives me a chance and really thinks about it..." He states, popping a piece in his mouth as well. "And I also want you to know that I'm not mad you slept with someone else. I actually don't mind it. I mean, I do, but...I understand, too."

She smiles sadly, looking down into their laps for a moment before redirecting her gaze back to him. "Thank you for understanding." She murmurs. "It was an impulse. He helped me get my things from here, and then I offered to pay him with a night in bed. He accepted and-"

"Of course he accepted." Tom teases, kissing her temple. "Have you looked in the mirror lately? You're beautiful."

Those words made her feel good inside again – _you're beautiful. _It's been a while since he'd called her anything but sexy or hot or smoking, and she liked the words. "Thank you." She makes a point of saying, making sure he knows that his words are appreciated when they're nice like that, instead of always sounding like he's trying to have sex with her right then and there. "It means a lot when you say that."

"Why is that?" He asks, ten minutes left of the year 1971.

She shakes her head, looking down as she thinks for a moment, "You just – I don't know. Lately, like I said, it sounded like you were just always trying to get into my panties." She admits, "So it's nice being assured I'm not just a sex toy."

"A sex toy?" He asks, astounded she felt that way. He gently picks her chin up with two fingers and looks in her deep brown eyes, "Tri, I've never thought of you that way except that very first night we had sex in the hotel. That was the only time, and ever since then...I just...I enjoy making love to you."

"Making love?" She asks, raising a brow. "I like having sex, not making love..."

"Well," He starts off, clearing his throat. "Don't you love me?"

She's not ready to say it out loud just yet, she's not ready to admit it completely, so she just nods. "What's that have to do with it?"

"If you love me, and I love you, then that's making love. Isn't it?" He asks, raising his brows.

He has a point. She supposes it is making love, sort of. She just hates admitting two things:

1\. That he's right.

2\. That they really do love each other.

Maybe it's not so bad to love someone, but she just is afraid she'll love him too much and he'll still end up breaking her heart. She shouldn't be scared, she's the one who breaks hearts, but he's had more experience. More practice. More years, even. He's simply better at that than she is, and for once the heart-breaker could be the heart-break-ee.

"I guess." She finally replies, after snacking on a few pieces of popcorn. She puts that into his lap and grabs her mimosa, sipping from it a little, then grabs the bowl of chips she set out for them. She realizes now, she hasn't eaten anything other than those scrambled eggs, all day. She's pretty hungry, but she doesn't want to ask Tom, now, to make her food. It's too late and too close to the time for the ball.

"Let's give one last confession of 1971. I don't care what it is, but let's just confess." She says, looking at him curiously. "You first."

He takes a breath, her body moving on his when his chest rises. "Well," He thinks for another moment, furrowing his brows again. "I don't know...I don't have much of a confession anymore since the fiancee thing is out of the bag." He says sadly. "I mean, other than the fact that I'm madly in love with you after only a few short months, I have no confession. What's yours?"

She smiles sadly, looking down. "My confession is that I'm in love with you, too, Tom. I'm scared to admit it, because I'm scared one day you'll take advantage of me like other past loves had. But I'm giving you my heart now, please just keep it safe." She whispers, hoping that he'll take her words seriously this time.

And for once, he does. He nods and kisses her on the forehead, running his hair lovingly through her curls, keeping her body tight on his. "I'll always keep your heart safe, right inside my heart..."

_Ten, nine, eight. _"Kiss me under the dimmed lights?" She asks playfully, putting her little, cheap party hat on that she'd bought when they were still planning on going out. She looks at the television, watching the last few seconds on the ball float away, and then it's midnight. Everyone in New York City on the television was kissing, screaming _Happy New Year! _And celebrating in so many different ways.

Tom smiled at her and quickly kissed her right at midnight, holding her close by as his lips passionately stayed on hers. She loves every second of it, the feeling of their lips back together again was overwhelming, so joyous. "Happy New Year, Tom..." She coos, kissing him one more time with her hands cupped on his cheeks, and then one more time for good measure. It's only 12:00:30 and she's already kissed him three times.

He seems perfectly happy with that, though, because his smile is big, too. "Happy New Year, Tri. To us." He coos, lifting his glass up and clinking it with hers.

"Also, to 1972." She replies.

"To 1972."

_**..**_

_**...**_

**_A/N: Okay, so next chapter is going to skip forward a few months since we're finally over their first big bump in the road of their relationship. And yes, they're really over that. It's definitely not his baby, it's definitely the man's that she cheated with. Anyway, Trina and Tom will be skipping forward to Valentine's day. Of course, it'll be smutty (woo wooooo), but give me some cute ideas I could throw in! It helps me update so much faster when y'all give me inspiration!_**

**_Love you all,  
G. (oh and also, Merry Christmas if I don't update before then!)_**


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Hi guys! First off, thanks for the reviews last chapter! I took an idea from user listhefan. Thanks so much! It helped me get over my writer's block!**_

_**Second, this chapter is longer than my last ones finally because I actually had some good inspiration and it has a huge backstory in it. I'm so excited to share this chapter with you!**_

_**I hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas!**_

_**G.**_

_**..**_

_**...**_

_**...**_

They're holding hands – the man with the lion tattoo and the brunette sitting beside him – his thumb is rubbing the back of her knuckles as their plane takes off. Trina is sitting down, watching the couple from the stewardess' seat, buckled up. They look so in love, and maybe – only maybe – she wants that with Tom. The openness of the love, not just the openness of the sex. She notices the peculiar tattoo on her wrist and it makes her smile to herself, wondering what that was about.

Sometimes passengers would come on with odd tattoos, and she's always wanted to ask but ends up never doing it in fear of it being weird to the passenger. She would be weirded out as well if her stewardess asked that question on a flight.

She can faintly hear Tom's voice (he's talking to Rex, of course) through the big door that seperates the pilot's cabin and the rest of the plane. Her back is against the wall, he's just on the other side of it, directly behind her. She wants to be able to reach back and hold his hand, too, just like the couple in the very first row are doing.

They're now looking out the window, the plane reaching the altitude it's supposed to be at. Trina unbuckles her seat belt and stands, readying herself to wait on passengers. Before she goes into the pantry, though, she makes a turn and opens the cabin door. Politely asking Rex to give them a moment, she sits down in Rex's seat as he steps out to use the lavatory after putting it on auto.

"Is everything alright?" Tom asks, a gentle but concerned tone in his voice.

Trina smiles and nods, looking down at his hand that's just resting on the arm of his seat. She wants to reach out and touch it, smile at him, and say _I love you_, but something inside of her is telling her no. Maybe it's that old school girl who had been broken hearted that her longtime boyfriend didn't work out. Maybe it's the woman who has sex to relieve the pain of her feelings. She's not sure what's telling her no, or who, but she wants it to stop.

Instead, she simply takes his hand and squeezes it, looking away from his eyes (she's pretty sure she'll stutter if she looks in them right now). "I just...I want to be more open with our relationship, Tom. Maybe I want to make this...more than..." She pauses and takes a deep breath, trying to steady her shaky voice, "More than just sex and dates. Maybe I want this to go further..." She says lowly, but her voice still is clear. "I'm not saying that I want you to propose to me any time soon, nothing like that. But maybe...I don't know..." She says and shakes her head.

"No, go on, Tri..." Tom pushes, squeezing her hand and rubbing the back of it just like the other man was doing to his girlfriend.

She looks up in his eyes, getting caught there. Maybe it's because of Valentine's Day, the whole month is filled with hearts and love and trying to find dates to go out with, but she feels like she could just scream that she loves him. She's feeling her heart warm by the second, and she's realizing, too, that maybe it's not so bad to be in love. "But maybe that's in our future one day, Tom." She finally whispers, keeping her eyes fixed on him. Her voice came out shakier this time than she meant for it to be, but the immediate smile on his face made her feel so much better about her decision to tell him her thoughts.

He clears his throat after trying to say something, but it coming out as nothing but a squeak. "You...you really would consider marriage one day?"

"One day." She says, "No time soon at all. Years from now..." She coos, looking back down as if she were afraid to disappoint him by saying that.

He turns to face her in his seat, leaning forward and taking her other hand in his other as well. "Tri, I'll wait until I'm ninety to marry you." He whispers, "You're the one I really have my heart set on."

"Really?" She asks, shocked and stunned that someone wanted her enough to wait that long. Luke didn't even want to wait the few years that it took to finish his college schooling.

"Really." He assures, and he brings one hand up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb underneath her eye socket very gently. "I love you. And I've stated that many times."

"I love you too, Tom." She blurts out. A lot has changed since their debate on sex and making love, the differences between the two where she _almost _admitted that she loved him. She was afraid then, she's been afraid since then, and she's still afraid now that one day he'll break her heart. But right now, the butterflies in her belly are helping her get over that fear. "I really do." She says, just to make her statement sound more sure.

He smiles at her, leaning forward a bit more to kiss in between her brows. "Thank you." He whispers against her soft skin, closing his eyes.

Both hands are on her cheeks, and it makes her feel warm and safe. More warm and more safe than she's ever felt in her life, like she could spend eternity here in his hands and be okay. She may melt before then, but she'll still be okay as a puddle in his hands. "Thank you for talking with me..." She whispers back, opening her eyes and looking up to search his happy ones.

He gives her a small smile, one that's awed, still, and still filled with love, too. "What made you change your mind on love and marriage?" He questions, pulling away slowly from her and sliding his hands down to her hands, holding them tight.

"There's this couple out there." She starts, shaking her head and letting out a quiet chuckle. "There's a ton of couples out there. It's February 13th, everyone is going on romantic getaways." She corrects herself, still smiling soft. "But there's one in particular that's in the very front row, and they were in love and...I just...I saw the look in his eyes when he sees her and that's the same exact look you give me. And the way she looked at him, like she just would die to save him from anything...they're so open about their love and-" She stops and shrugs, her smile fading slowly. "I wanted that too. I want to show my love for you out in the open, hold hands like a real couple instead of lovers."

"I thought we were past that stage, anyway?"

"Well, we are." She says, looking down. "I just...it's hard for me, for some reason, Tom. I can't let go of this weight that's holding me back from really just loving you. At first our relationship was about sex and smoking and...fun." She says, "But now I want to consider a future with you. I want...I've never wanted a white dress and to walk down the aisle, but you're the only one I can ever imagine doing that for." She murmurs, looking up once more. "And I think I should probably start acting more like I'd like to marry you one day in the future." She states, a tiny, proud little smile gracing her face as she awaits his answer to that.

It starts to fade again when he doesn't say anything, and maybe, she's thinking, that this was a mistake. Maybe he thinks she's pushing too hard too quick all of a sudden. Maybe. "Tom I-"

Before she can finish (or really, even get started), his lips are on hers for a gentle and love-filled kiss. "I'd love that." He whispers after pulling away, smiling close to her lips. "In the future."

"In the future." She repeats, a relieved smile now. "I should probably get back out to the passengers..." She says, chuckling softly as she slowly pulls her hands out of his.

He nods sadly and re-positions himself back in his seat, "I suppose you should." He says.

She stands and gives him one kiss on the temple, "Of course, this doesn't change anything in the bedroom. Or countertop. Or couch...wherever we decide we want to do it." She says in his ear, winking and clicking her tongue before walking to the door. She slides it open and suddenly Rex and Patty both are falling in the door.

"Oh! I- I!"

"You!" She snaps, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Trina hisses, quiet enough so that customers can't hear. She pulls the door shut and makes them sit in the floor as she and Tom both stare them down.

"Listening." Rex says simply. "You better eat her out right in that hotel, Tommy." He says, turning up to Tom. He just smirks a little, only giving him a hint of what he'll do for her, and then shakes his head in disappointment at him listening to their conversation. Patty has stayed quiet, and Trina knows it's because she may start crying if she yells at her. Which is good, she likes making her feel a little bit less after the mean things she's said.

"Out." Trina says to Patty, her arms still folded as she stands above her. Patty crawls to her feet and opens the door, getting out before Trina steps out and slides the door shut, leaving Rex and Tom in the cabin.

The first thing she sees is the couple again, and they look so happy, but not as happy as she feels. For once, she feels like she could just jump over the moon.

**..**

…**.**

Miami Beach, hands together and swinging, and Trina is leaning in gently on his shoulder as they walk through the sand. They got the opportunity, tonight (February 14th) to be able to stay over in Miami, and she's thankful for the layover today because it couldn't have come at a better time.

She feels her shawl blowing gently in the crisp, mid February Florida wind. Not cold, but cool enough she wishes she would've brought a heavier shirt. "This is really nice, Tom." She coos to him, both of her arms wrapped around his bicep, linking her hands with each other.

He looks down at her as they walk beside the waves, "A nice date night." He confirms, bending his neck to reach and kiss her head.

They walk a little further before she stops, letting him know this is the spot she'd like their picnic to be. He sets it all up and she sits down on the blanket, moonlit with the assistance of one lone candle. "You know, I used to hate working around Valentine's Day. All of the couples...they just looked so happy. It made me feel sick." She states, taking a bite of her handmade sandwich (courtesy of Tom, of course). "Now, I realize that I'm a half of one of those couples. I'm so happy around you, and I think that's what love can do to a person. Kind of crazy how it'll change someone."

"Oh, it definitely is." He says, taking a bite as well. "My mom – I told you she used to be a hooker. My dad and her...it was an accident. I was an accident." He admits, swallowing thickly. He looked as if it hurt to admit that he wasn't planned, even though he's known that all these years, and he even told her once. He looks more hurt right now than he did then, though. "And my mom was going through a lot. She was messed up pretty bad and all, which I told you that...but...when she changed-" He pauses, shaking his head and smiling at a memory in his head (she can tell because he's closed his eyes tight, and he always does that when he's thinking back), "She met someone who got her out of the hooker thing. He took her in, helped her get off drugs, and they fell in love once she got back to her right self. They dated six years...he was like my dad, just not officially. She was so happy and she was the most beautiful I'd ever seen her. She was completely, fully in love, Tri." He states, and she smiles softly as he tells her his memories. She likes hearing about his past, she's realized. "And one spring afternoon, they found him dead. He'd died of what they said was a major heart attack during his sleep."

"Oh Tom..." Trina says, her expression immediately becoming more concerned. She was heartbroken for him, she could feel his emotions running through her just like they were her own. Just like she'd been there to experience that, too. "I'm so sorry." She says, automatically reaching for his hand and holding it tightly.

He takes a shaky breath, looking out to the waves. She can tell he's tearing up. "You make me that kind of happy, Tri. You've always made me that kind of happy and if something happened to you, I won't be like my mom and still be able to live. I _will_ die without you, there's not doubt."

She tilts her head, shaking it sadly, "Tom, you don't-"

"Trina, I mean it...I'm serious."

She swallows thickly, rubbing his hand and leaning forward to kiss him. "I love you, Tom. And you make me that kind of happy, too." She whispers, biting her lip as she pulls away to sit back down in her spot like she was before. "Since we're sharing stories of our past, you want to hear the one about my father?" She asks, and he tilts his head with a confused expression. "Remember the day that we were talking, and you asked about my mother and why I didn't like her?"

Trina watches him close his eyes again, just like he always does to think of a memory.

_..."Will you tell me anything about her?"_

_She looks back at him again, a sad smile making her whole expression look broken. "Like what? Like how she used to drag me to...to galas? To political events for my father? She hated my father, and as soon as she-" She stops, she can't admit that. She's never told anyone. She's never let that leave her lips._

"_As soon as she what, Tri?"_

"_Nothing." She answers. "Just drop it. Please." She sounds cruel, but she can't help it. She needs to let him know she's serious. She needs to stop him from asking...now. "I don't ever want to talk about it again. It's just something you'll never know about me, Tom."_

_Now her mind is buzzing with memories. The day her mother picked the knife up, stabbing him in front of his daughter. She didn't realize Trina was standing there, and Trina never told a soul. As crazy as her mother is, she would probably have killed Trina, too. She couldn't let anyone know what she saw. And it was all because her father no longer wanted to run for mayor, all because her mother was going to lose the social limelight. But then she killed him, and she got all the social attention she ever wanted. She even has a scholarship in her name, because of her dead husband. How sickening. _

_She doesn't know when he moved over to the couch, when he cradled her in his arms, but it startles her a little when he realizes that he's right there. "I know it's a hard subject. I don't know why. But one day, I'll find out. One day I'll finally peel back all of the layers that you have built up because of her, and I'll probably be shocked at the outcome but...oh well." He shrugs softly and presses a kiss to her cheek..._

"Yeah, I remember..." He says softly, directing his eyes back on hers.

She clears her throat, looking down at her thumbs twiddling. "You have to promise to not tell anyone." She starts off, swallowing thickly as she watches him nod. "My father was the mayor. Mayor Russo, very rich man of course. You have to be rich to be in politics." She states, "He was about to run for his second term. Years before his mayoral career, of course, he was a big time business man who came from nothing but businessmen. A long line of them. I was never a huge fan of my father, he never wanted me all that much, but I loved him more than I love my mother. Anyway..." She says, realizing she's stalling. "My mother and father were talking late one night in the kitchen as I was sneaking in, and they had no idea I was standing there where I could see them. They were arguing, yelling – but quietly like parents do when they think their child is upstairs in bed, asleep." She says sadly, the memory making her hands shake as she reaches for his to hold. "I didn't know what it was about until I heard him say it was too much for him, he didn't want to be in politics anymore. My mother-" She has to stop, gather herself and her emotions before they take the imaginary reins away from her.

"It's okay..." Tom coos, squeezing both of her hands.

She looks up at him and nods, clearing her throat to go on, "My mother yelled back at him, a little louder this time, enough to make me jump because at first I'd thought she'd caught me. But no...instead she yelled about my dad being a bastard and that because he was down in the city polls he just wanted to give up. And she reached over for a sharp kitchen knife and-" She looks away, her eyes overflowed with tears and down onto her cheeks. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, willing herself to go on and open up completely to him. "And she stabbed it through his chest. I-I've never told anyone, Tom, and you can't either. If anyone finds out she'll kill us both."

His expression was completely numb, he was too shocked to do much of anything but say, "Your mother doesn't know you saw her?"

She shakes her head nervously, "No." She states, "And she never can. She'll kill us both, Tom. A slow and painful death, too." She says. "You think I was just joking when I said I didn't like my mother? I wasn't...it was because she murdered my father and unfortunately used a napkin to pick it up with, so they never found her prints on it. She staged his body to make it look like a suicide. I'd ran upstairs to my room after that, crying myself to no end, trying to sleep but the flashes of that knife going through him wouldn't stop playing in my head. She shrieked, a completely fake shriek, at about 6:30 AM, and I ran downstairs. I thought maybe – I'd hoped, maybe – that she'd somehow died too. But to my dismay, she made everything out to look like a suicide. My father was pegged as a coward and my mother got tons of money from his death." She explains.

All Tom can do is stay quiet, he's got his arms wrapped tightly around her and his lips are stuck to her cheek. "Trina I'm so sorry..." He whispers, "No one should have to see that, let alone see their own parents do that..." He murmurs, cradling her and rocking her side to side to soothe her.

It brought back horrible, raw memories for her. The funeral, the way she acted like it was just a horrible way to die – suicide. It was a horrible way to die – murder. But no one knew and no one would ever know, except now Tom. "Please, Tom, don't ever tell any-"

"You have my absolute word, Trina. I'd never tell that." He assures, hugging her in his arms tightly. "I see now why you didn't want to talk about it before..."

"Yeah." She whimpers, trying to stop crying.

She slowly pulls away and wipes her tears from her skin, sniffling and trying to regain her composure. "It's a horrible burden to have to carry for six years." She whispers, her voice breaking up too much to actually speak out loud. "Almost seven."

He nods in reply, running his fingers gently through her curls. "You're right." He says, "But your secret is more than safe with me, Tri, I promise." He says. "I'm here for you...just – just know that." He assures, holding her hands again.

"Thank you." She replies, swallowing hard and clearing her throat again. She takes a shaky breath, finally able to speak better. "I love you, Tom. My whole heart...I wouldn't have told that to you if I didn't and that...that is my insurance that I'm completely in love with you."

"I don't need insurance." Tom corrects.

"Sometimes you will. When I'm mad or cranky or upset or moody...you'll want that insurance that I still love you no matter what. Just like your story of your mom with the hooker thing..." She sniffles, shaking her head side to side slowly, "Secret is safe with me, Tom. I love you and I know that you love me or you wouldn't have told me that."

"Right." He says, kissing her lips softly.

After a few moments of silence, Trina takes another shaky breath and continues to eat her sandwich now. He starts back, as well, and looks out at the waves as she does. It makes her feel so much lighter now – she has a best friend who knows her deepest, darkest secret. It's a huge boulder lifted from her chest, and she feels like – for the first time in years – she's able to breathe correctly again.

She feels refreshed, like the waves on this beach have rolled over her and taken away an old piece of Trina Russo. And maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's the piece of her that was telling him to not love him, and she's pretty sure it is when she says, "I love you, Tom. Very much."

He seems happy by this, looking at her and holding one hand across the picnic blanket, "I love you too, Trina."

**_.._**

**_..._**

**_..._**

**_A/N: Soooo? Did you like Trina's first I love you to Tom? I did :P I hope you did too. And thanks again to listhefan for the idea about the OQ scene in the plane. HAD TO DO IT! Best idea ever lol. _**

**_There is proof that I NEED Y'ALL'S HELP IN EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER IF YOU HAVE IDEAS! I had such a horrible writer's block for the past week or whatever and as soon as I saw that I just was waiting for the time to write it. And it's currently 1:42 AM and I just finished it._**

**_Hope you enjoyed and PLEASE let me know if you did! Also if you have any ideas let me know those too!_**

**_Thanks! _**

**_G._**


	12. Chapter 12

**_A/N: Hey guys!_**

**_So this chapter (a summary) is basically about Tom and Trina kind of exploring their sex life. Unfortunately there's actually no smut in it, but I think there should be some in the next chapter. I skipped forward quite a bit (the previous chapter finished on Valentine's Day, when she confessed her love to Tom on their beach date in Miami)._**

**_But this chapter is kind of an important one because Swingtown was basically centered around adults exploring their lives in the bedroom, and this is kind of the chapter that starts it all. Which also makes me sad, because that means that Before the Deckers is one step closer to being ended. *cries hopelessly*._**

**_But for now, I shall enjoy writing this. _**

**_(And don't worry, it won't be ended in like less than probably at least seven chapters lol. I'd originally planned for this to be about ten chapters but that never happens with me...)_**

**_Hope y'all enjoy this! PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW HOW YOU LIKED IT! Constructive criticism more than welcome please! Or just a review saying "HEY I READ IT AND I LIKED IT!" Just a little note of reassurance that someone likes this lol._**

**_Also, probably will be updating sooner. I lost my job today (YAY FOR CUTBACKS!) so I will be less occupied until I can get a new job._**

**_Thanks for being patient! Love y'all!_**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_G._**

**_..._**

**_..._**

_I've been through the desert on a horse with no name  
It felt good to be out of the rain  
In the desert you can remember your name  
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain  
La, la _

"Here's your beer." Tom coos, handing her the bottle from behind her. She smiles over her shoulder at him, taking a sip from it (he always takes the caps off for her).

They're on the beach, the music is playing loudly, and for once it's not _their _party, it's someone else's. Brad and Sylvia Davis, they've just moved to this area. With it being the Fourth of July, it's ridiculously hot and most of them are in the water. Trina and Tom just came out of the water to relax on the beach for a short while (and to enjoy a beer).

She's the first one to sit down on her towel, and he follows her suit. She leans back a little, stretching out to get a nice tan, "Warm beer. Makes me think of my high school days." She chuckles, sipping some more of it down from the long neck.

He gazes over at her, nodding a little bit. "Same here. Except we had the cheap, crappy stuff."

"Us too." Trina replies with a soft chuckle, looking out to the water now. Her mind drifts off to the fourth of July's she's spent on the beaches – sprawled out with Luke, of course. Except they never lasted long like this, they'd always end up somewhere off in a beach house having sex on the floor or something completely crazy like that. She hopes that today she can just enjoy it for once, instead of making everything about sex.

It had taken so much away from her life, and she'd never noticed it until Tom showed her what it was all about. Sex, mixed with a lot of love, makes everything more worthwhile. It makes the sex not all that important, but just spending time with each other all the more.

She's pulled away from her thoughts when he clears his throat, "So, birthday girl," He starts with a chuckle. It's been a week since her birthday, but he still keeps saying it. "Does twenty-two still feel no different from twenty-one?" He asks, looking back over at her again. She chuckles, shakes her head, and rolls her eyes in response. He catches the eye roll and smirks, "What was that for, Tri? Tired of hearing that question?" He asks coyly.

"Yes!" She exclaims playfully, nudging him on the shoulder with her own. "I've heard that question all day, every day from you for the past week, goofy." She coos, rolling her eyes once more and sipping at the beer in hand. "You will never learn that I'll have the same answer to your question."

"Want to bet?" Tom asks.

"Bet what?" Trina inquires, raising a brow at him, waiting for his quirky answer.

He shifts over onto his side, facing her as one arm props his head up. "I bet that I can make twenty-two be totally different for you than twenty-one ever was." He says, no playfulness in his voice whatsoever.

_How in the hell could he do that, _she thinks. "What do you have up your sleeve, Mr. Decker?" She asks, and when he flicks his brows in response she feels her heart drop to her stomach. The first thing her mind zips to is _he wants to get married_. "No... no. I think I know what you're thinking and no, Tom. It's way too soon to be married."

"Too soon for _what?!_" He exclaims. "No! Not what I was thinking at _all_." And when she replies with _oh_, he shakes his head again and clears his throat, "No, no marriage yet. We've already done this, but this time it'll be a little different."

"Done what?" She asks, now very confused a tiny bit embarrassed over the marriage thing.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes at her response, something she furrows her brows at since that's _her _move to _him,_ not the other way around. "Okay, so you know how we have a lot of sex?"

And again, her heart sinks a little bit. Not as much as it did when she thought he was suggesting marriage, but it still sinks. "Yeah?" She asks, sitting up now, setting her beer down beside her leg.

His eyes follow her closely, and he picks his own beer up and sips at it while she's sitting up. "Okay, well, I was talking with Brad and Sylvia and they said they were looking for someone to like...switch up with."

"No." She says immediately. She looks forward and crosses her arms over stomach, remembering the time she thought Tom was not being completely faithful. Sure, they weren't technically exclusive, but she had felt so dirty if she was screwing with him while he was screwing other women on the side. It felt unclean. And this whole concept that he's thought up with Brad makes her feel uneasy again, "I'm not doing that, Tom. Either you have me or you don't, and either I have you or I don't. No...side people."

"It's not side people, Tri." Tom answers softly, apparently seeing how uneasy she was becoming. "Hey, what's wrong?" He asks, reaching his free hand out to her knee, rubbing it gently.

She jerks it away, looking out to the water still. "I just don't want that, Tom. I don't want to lose you if you like..._her _better."

He lets out a chuckle, one that makes Trina want to slap him so hard he won't even know what's day and night. "Is that what you're worried about?" He asks, shaking his head as he sits up as well. "That won't happen. It's just something different to try..." He shrugs.

"Are you not happy with our sex life?" She asks softly, still not looking at him.

He knows better than to do this, but he takes her chin anyway and gently makes her look at him. "I'm very happy with our sex life. What man gets to say, too often, that he has sex at least four times a week after almost a year of being together?"

She hadn't realized it, but they have been together almost a year. Next month would mark her one year anniversary with Pan-American Airlines on the Miami route. She didn't realize how fast it's all gone by, and how much has changed since just last year. But she tries to not think of that at the moment, she tries to focus on the subject on hand. "Not many, I guess, but how many men get to say that they're screwing two women at one time, Tom? I just don't like the idea..." She says, not budging at all.

She's always been fine with trying new things in their sex life. New places, new positions, new toys. Everything. She's welcomed it, not just accepted it. She's encouraged it, not just tolerated it. But this? This is just too much for her to take. She couldn't stand the sight of seeing him inside of another woman. Shaking his head, he sighs, "It's okay, Tri..." He says softly. "It was just a suggestion. I'm sorry." He says, rubbing her leg again.

Moving it away a little more, she stands up and dusts herself off. "I'm not feeling all that well. Can we get going?" She asks. The fireworks hadn't even started, the bonfire hadn't been lit, the beer hadn't had the chance to cool off in the cool summer night. The party had barely been started.

He looks at her with wide eyes, a bit shocked, she guesses. "Ah, yeah. Sure." He says, standing up and grabbing their towels, wadding them up and stuffing them into their beach bag after she gets her cover up out.

The cover up drapes around her shoulders, still from the lack of a breeze currently. It was true, she did feel sick to her stomach. But it was just from the thought of him with another woman. She knows she shouldn't have gotten this attached to him, but he's done it to her. She just couldn't resist him, and now because of it she's feeling a broken heart already.

…

…

Once she was home and tucked under the sheets (she had decided to take a nap, hoping that it would help her nerves), she had fallen into a deeper sleep than she'd intended to. She had odd dreams, one of them consisting of her being about nine months pregnant – but not with Tom's child. With Brad's. Another of them consisted of a whale coming up out of the water just to ask her for a beer at the beach.

In all, she concluded once she woke up that the conversation they had really messed with her mind. It shouldn't have, because she shouldn't be this in love with him and _this _jealous just over the _thoughts _of him with another woman, but it did.

She rolls over, realizing he'd joined her some time during her two hour sleep. He wasn't asleep, though, "Hey." He whispers.

"Hey." She whispers back, looking down at the crack in between their two pillows.

He sighs softly, beginning to rub the curve of her waist (she hadn't even realized that his arm was around her. It just felt natural for it to be there). "Sorry for earlier, Trina." He says softly, his voice a little bit husky. It sounded as though he had maybe been yelling or something, she wasn't sure.

Shaking her head and taking a deep breath, she replies, "I just don't want to do that." And begins to pick mindlessly at the fuzz on the blankets.

"I know." He says softly. "I'm not exactly sure why, but I know that you don't want-"

"You don't know why?" She asks, looking up at him with saddened eyes. "Tom, I confessed my love to you months ago on the beach. And that meant that I wanted you and you only. I thought that meant the same for you when you said you loved me..." She says. "I guess I just didn't realize your standards are different than mine."

"They're not different, Trina." He says. "You just aren't seeing it the same way I am. Which is fine...not everyone is meant to see everything the same way. If they were meant to be like that, we'd never have change in the world." He says softly, bringing his hand up to gently thread through her hair. "I just thought it may be a fun way to explore _our _relationship. Brad said it really brought them closer together...and I thought it may just bring us that much closer." He shrugs softly, letting out a gentle sigh.

She shakes her head, "But how is that exploring _our _relationship, Tom? I mean we're exploring other people."

"Because it's not like we just go off on our own and have sex with the other person. You'd be there while I'm with Sylvia, just like I'd be there when you're with Brad...it's not literally swapping – I'm not ready for that. That's like...swinging or something." He says. "But it's just...it's a foursome. I'd be there the whole time, and you'd be there the whole time. We'd both be involved with our partners."

"I don't want to do it, Tom." She says again, looking down and going back to picking at the blankets. It just seemed to dangerous to try. "Please don't try persuading me into it." She asks, realizing that her stomachache was coming back again.

He sighs, nodding before he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again, okay?" He whispers, running his fingers through her strands again. "Listen, let's get up and get dressed into something casual and go over to the sports bar downtown. They'll be having fireworks close to their balcony, you can see them from there. We don't even have to drink if you don't want, 'cause I'm not really feeling the alcohol right now either. We can just go eat a burger and some fries, maybe have a milkshake, and then watch some fireworks to celebrate our country. Yeah?" He asks, looking into her eyes.

She finally nods just a little bit, sniffling. "Okay." She says softly. "Only on one condition." She adds, waiting for him to give her a hint that she has his attention. Once she knows she does, she continues, "Never bring up a foursome or threesome or fivesome or tensome again. I don't ever want to think of you with anyone else, Tom..."

He nods, processing the request before kissing her again. "Promise." He whispers. "I promise I won't ever bring up new partners again, babe. Just you and me." He says, smiling sadly in an attempt to make her feel a little better.

…

…

"Two burgers, one with cheese, tomato, mayo, and onions, and the other with just cheese and ketchup." He orders for them, putting her order in first. She smiles a little, liking the fact that he remembers how she likes her burger. "Oh! And mushrooms, right?" He asks her, waiting for the nod of approval. She chuckles softly, looking up at the waitress as she writes that down, too. "I almost forgot." He says, handing her the menus.

The waitress nods, reads it all back to them – including their order of cheese fries and a milkshake to share – and then goes back to the kitchen. They both have a pop instead of a beer. They're the only couple in here that doesn't have some sort of alcohol, and the little bit of beer they had at the beach hadn't affected either of them.

Reaching for her hand, he sighs a little. "You feeling any better?" He asks, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb gently.

She nods, clearing her throat. "A lot better. I'll feel even more better when I have that burger. I hear they have good ones." She says, quickly changing the subject again. She doesn't even want to remotely think about them swapping.

"Oh, they're bitchin', Tri. I had one back last summer before work one day. I don't know why I've never taken you here before." He says, shaking his head and shrugging.

She chuckles, shaking her head softly, "Well, maybe you should think about that a little harder but with your head hung down in shame." She teases, laughing after he actually does it. She playfully slaps the back of his hand and rolls her eyes, "I didn't literally mean it!"

"I always do what I'm told." He replies, "I'm whipped!" He says in a humorous manner, getting another laugh from her.

"You're whipped, alright. The only whip on you is the one we used that _one _time when I was dominant."

"We should do that again, you know." Tom says, taking a sip through his straw and widening her eyes up at her.

The thought intrigues her, tickling her brain, so to speak. The last time they'd made her the dominant one, Tom was tied to the bed and being whipped (gently, of course. Trina is many things but mean is not one of them). He hadn't used their safe word, but he came awfully close a few times while she had his balls tight in her hand. "Are you sure?" She asks, furrowing her brows. "If I remember correctly, you couldn't sit down very well for the next two days." She says.

He shrugs, "Just because of that...plug...thing." He says, making a face. "But I'd rather not use that again."

She nods in agreement, "Yeah, that was a little much..." She says, playing with her straw. "But the other stuff you're okay with again?"

"More than okay with it." He replies.

She looks at him seriously, her brows arched slightly and her lips pursed as she carefully chooses her next words. "This isn't just because you want to have that foursome is it?"

"No!" He says immediately. "No, Tri. That's really not it." He chuckles sadly, slumping in the booth a little. "I just thought it may be nice to have you dominant again. I enjoyed it, even if you did make the boys hurt." He says, managing a quiet laugh even though he was thinking about all the pain she caused him.

She cracks a small smile, "Okay. We'll do it again soon. Just not this week, I have...issues this week." She says, shifting a little bit. Due to the birth control pills she's still getting from a friend, she only gets her period every three months. But when it comes, it comes hard and she's always miserable. That's why she didn't wear her favorite white bikini at the beach today.

"Oh." He says softly, realizing now why she was so sensitive to the foursome. "I'm sorry, babe." He says, taking her hand again and rubbing his thumb over it. "No wonder you were so sleepy..." He says understandingly.

She nods, sighing a little bit. "But anyway, we can do it another time."

…

…

A burp emits at the table, but it's most certainly not from Tom. Trina chuckles a little bit, smiling sheepishly. "That was a good one." She states, smiling a little more. "That burger was absolutely delicious." She says.

He chuckles at her lack of lady-likeness. "My dream woman." He teases, smirking a bit and looking out at the balcony. "I can't believe we got such a good spot out here. This is why I love this place, you can sit outside and eat." He says, throwing his napkin into his empty basket.

She nods, "It is nice. We'll have to come back here more often." She replies, leaning back into the booth a bit more.

It was almost dark, the fireworks will be starting any moment. She can already feel herself cramping up, and she shifts a bit uncomfortably. She hopes Tom doesn't notice. She doesn't want him being too concerned right now about her. He's always a little too mushy when it comes to her cycle. She just wants to keep to herself with that – it's the one thing she's pretty private about.

"When do you think they'll start?" She asks, bringing her pop to her face, taking a sip from her straw. She doesn't want to move.

He shrugs, "Probably soon." He says, looking over at her and furrowing a brow. "You okay?"

She nods, her lips pushed together a bit as she sets the glass down. "You know how it goes sometimes." She replies, shrugging her shoulders up. "I'll be fine." She coos.

He stands up and gently picks her up, being careful to not make her abdomen stretch out to cause her more pain. He scoots the table away toward his side of the booth a bit, putting her in his lap as his legs are stretched out on her side of the booth. "There." He coos. "Now we can snuggle and watch the fireworks."

She smiles a bit, craning her neck to press a kiss to his jaw. "You're too kind sometimes."

"Only sometimes. Other times I'm kind of a jerk." He admits, looking at her.

"You're not a jerk, Tom..."

He shrugs softly, swallowing hard as he looks out toward where the fireworks will be. "I don't know. It seemed like I was a pretty big jerk today about the whole Brad and Sylvia thing." He states, looking back at her again.

She shakes her head, leaning onto his chest. "No, it just upset me. But you apologized and promised to not talk about it anymore, so that doesn't make you a jerk. Just drop it, babe. It's okay." She says. She's in one of those rare, overly forgiving moods right now. He should be lucky.

Just as he starts to speak, probably another argument about how he was a jerk, the first big firework shoots off in the distance, but close enough to make their ears rattle when it booms up in the sky.

She looks up at him, smiling. "Happy Independence Day." She whispers in between big fireworks, kissing him just in time for another one to go _BOOM._

_**...**_

_..._

_A/N: Awwwww. They "kissed and made up". _

_What would you like to see in the upcoming chapters? Please let me know in your reviews! I am one of those annoying writers that beg for your help to write this. I'm basically writing it for myself, because I like to pretend that Swingtown had more of a backstory, so it's like a community story lol. You help, I write. So thanks. _

_yeah._

_anywayyyyy._

_Leave your reviews and all that fun stuff and I'll hopefully be updating soon!_

_G. _


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey! Long time, no write ;) Just kidding. It feels nice and kinda weird to be updating the day after I just updated...but hey, when you're unemployed you kind of just piddle around the house all day anyway lol.**

**This chapter will probably make you cry, just a warning.**

**Enjoy! :)**

**G.**

**...**

**...**

It's a whimper from Trina at seven in the morning that first alarms him, "She's dying."

She's still standing in the doorway, the phone dangling by the cord from her hands. Tears were welling in her eyes. When he saw her, he's almost surprised at how sad she looked over this news of her dying mom, but still – Dianna was her mom, even if she killed her dad.

Tom turns his chair now to face her as well at the table in the dining room, where he _was _reading the paper while waiting for her to get ready for a morning run, "Your mom?" He asks, his expression saddening and more concerned. "Tri, where is she?"

"She's at Northwestern Memorial." She whispers, still seeming so shocked that her mother is..._dying. _

Just yesterday, she'd received a call from someone saying that they needed to discuss her mother's will, that her mother was reaching age 50. She had agreed to it, knowing she would receive a lot of the things her mother kept of her father's. She told Tom that she didn't want much, but some of the keepsakes from her father would be nice. Her mother's stuff she wanted nothing of, he was sure of that.

After a moment, Tom shakes his head, "Come on," He says, setting the newspapers down and standing up. "We should get going." He says.

She's still too shocked to even move, she just has the phone dangling in her hands. He supposes she never thought that after all those years of her mother keeping the murder of her father a secret, that her mother would die from something like this – cancer. She'd never even heard of cancer before in her life, but now, here, her mother had it. She nodded after a few seconds of silence, finally catching her breath and taking a shaky step out of the doorway that she hadn't been able to move from.

He helps her into the car, she hasn't said a word since she told Tom where her mother was. He's never even met her mom...and now this is the first time – on her possible death bed.

The whole way there, she still never said anything. Even though Tom kept saying _it's alright, Tri _and _breathe, Tri_. Nothing was helping the fact that she hasn't seen her mother since her twentieth birthday, and she hasn't talked to her since her birthday this year. That's the only reason, still, that they spoke was to wish one another a happy birthday.

Once they arrived, they were immediately sent to her mother's room. "Dianna Russo, she's right in room 113." The nurse instructs, and Trina and Tom go rushing to it. They were on the ground floor, where all of the rooms were in the hundreds thankfully. They find it, and she completely freezes outside of the door.

"Tom, I haven't seen her in two years." She whispers. "Over two years."

He sighs, taking her arms in between his gentle hands. "You have your reasons, Tri." He replies, rubbing her upper arm lovingly as he remembers the sadness in her voice that night that she told him what her mom had done to her dad. Just over some stupid, political campaign, a daughter lost a father. "Just go in and enjoy these last moments with her..."

She nods sadly, trying to take his advice as she goes inside the door. Just as she goes in, there's three more nurses rushing up to the room, pushing past her and almost making her fall from being so unbalanced right now, anyway.

Tom shouts angrily, "Hey!" And holds her closer, his blood boiling that they have no courtesy for the daughter of the woman who's on her death bed. "What the hell is-"

"Mrs. Russo has gone into cardiac arrest." A nurse states hastily as they're unlocking all of the bed's wheels.

No sooner than Trina could get a glance at her mother, she was out of the room. It was just Tom, Trina, and some equipment that was left beeping erratically. She looks up at Tom, completely speechless, shocked once again, and teary eyed. "I didn't say goodbye, Tom. I'm too late."

"Shh...shh..." He didn't comfort her and tell her it would be okay this time. He can't comfort her right now, there's no way he could find even half of the right words for this situation. He'd be lying to her if he told her that her mother would be okay. He knows the slim chances of her mom pulling out of this.

"I hated her so much, but I don't want her to die like this." She whispers, her voice muffled in his tee shirt.

Tom cradles her into his arms, holding her close to his warm chest. "Trina, it's not your fault that your mom is going through this. It's nature's way of taking her, babe..."

She sniffles, and let's out the first sob she's let out in who knows how long. He's never seen her so empty and so sad. He feels that she thinks she shouldn't be upset over her, this is the woman who killed Trina's father, after all. But no...she's trembling in between his arms and his chest as he's sitting them down in the chair.

"Shh..." He whispers again, letting her curl up in his lap and just cry.

It would be a while for them to find out anything. He hopes that the waiting won't kill Trina before anything else kills her mom.

…

…

Hours later, after three attempts of shocking her heart back into a working state, a doctor came in to declare her death. Trina was a sobbing mess, and Tom couldn't do anything but hold her in his arms yet again. She didn't want to talk, she didn't have anything to say. She even became slightly angry at him when he tried telling her that it's okay, that it was her time.

He supposes that wasn't the thing to say at this time, but he didn't know what else to do. He's never dealt with anyone that's just lost a close family member. Even though Dianna and Trina weren't all that close, she was still Trina's mother and he knew that Trina, deep down, still had love in her heart for her. No daughter can completely hate her mother, no matter what all she has done. She'll always have love.

A few more hours later, he's made the executive decision that he should take her home, let her get some rest. Or if not rest, maybe just let her cry in their bed instead of in a cold hospital room where her mom once was living. It was close to sunset when they got home, and he laid her down on the bed, brought her a water, and tucked her in softly. "I told the hospital that we'd be calling as soon as we could. They said they understood that you needed your time."

She doesn't hardly acknowledge him, but she does finally nod to let him know she heard him. "Okay." She whimpers.

He asks her if she wants him to stay in there with him, but her answer was a quick and blatant _no_. He almost took offense to it, but remembered how hard it hurt him when his dad died. Sure, he was much closer to his dad, but he understands that it's still really hard for her. So he presses a soft kiss to her cheekbone, tells her he loves her, and then walks out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen.

After grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, he walks to the living area and sits down in the chair mindlessly, opening the bottle and taking a long, refreshing sip from it. He could still hear her sobs, and it was absolutely killing him to not be up there with her, holding her and comforting her. She wanted her space...he'd give it to her no matter how badly it hurt him to do so.

He turns on the radio in a desperate attempt to drown her sobs from the bedroom. He's never heard her this emotional before, and he wonders why she feels so sad, again, about her mom's death. It's making his head hurt while wondering if she really loved her mother more than she let on, or maybe if she was lying to her about Dianna killing Mayor Russo. He wasn't sure. But he was pretty sure, also, that she wouldn't ever lie to him, especially about something like that.

…

…

He'd read the newspaper, he'd listened to the radio for about two hours, he'd went outside to breathe in the cool, crisp mid-August air, he'd done everything he could think of to take his mind off of the upset woman upstairs. Finally, after about four hours in total, he went upstairs to check on her for the second time tonight.

Knocking quietly on the door, he peeks in, "Tri?" He whispers. She's sitting up now, finally, and she nods. "Hey..." He says softly, coming in and closing the door behind him. When she pats the bed beside her, he climbs in and holds her close.

"She's gone." She whispers. "Both parents...they're both gone, now, Tom."

He nods sadly. "I know, babe..." He whispers back, cradling her tighter, rocking her gently side to side.

"But it's a good thing. We can live our life..." She whimpers, closing her eyes and letting a quiet sob shake her body. "We don't have to keep the huge secret of her killing my father. If it slips, now, it slips..." She says. "She was an evil woman. She shouldn't have died so soon, but she was an evil woman, Tom."

"I know..." He whispers again, kissing the top of her head. "The hospital asked you to call them." He says softly, being touchy with his words. He didn't want to sound inconsiderate, but the hospital really needed to know where to send the body.

She nods and says, "I'll call them." before gesturing to Tom to hand her the bed phone. He reaches for it and hands it to her, and dials the number for her since it was on his side of the bed currently.

He listens in as she tells them that she wants the body sent to the funeral home on Tenth Avenue, that she'll be calling them tomorrow to make arrangements. He realized, then, that this is only the beginning of a long road with her.

…

…

Only two short days (but at the same time, two very long days) later, he was helping her out of his car. She was all dressed in black, looking just as beautiful even with the tear-stained face and less makeup than normal. He kisses her forehead as she steps both feet onto the ground and straightens up. "I love you." He whispers, squeezing both of her hands in his. "I'm right here for you."

She nods sadly, looking down and letting a few tears fall. "I know you are...thank you." She whispers.

They step into the funeral hall where the service would begin in about thirty minutes. She had to finish preparing a few things with the people here, and she had the chance to say goodbye in private to her mother. She asked Tom to come in after about five minutes alone with Dianna's body, so he did and stood right beside her, rubbing her back gently as she just stared at her mother. "I still just...I hated her. I hate her still. But she was my mother..." She whispers.

He nods, pulling her gently into his side. "I know she was, babe..." He whispers. "She'll always be your mom. You guys didn't get along, reasons understood, but she's always gonna be your mom."

"Does it make me a bitch for not feeling a huge regret of not saying goodbye to her while she was alive?" She asks in a quiet tone, not wanting anyone else to hear her except Tom, since there was already an early arrival in the seats.

He shakes his head softly after a moment of really taking it into consideration. He didn't want to answer it too hasty, he didn't want to lie and say no. But he also didn't want to say yes without explanation, if that's what it came down to. But instead, he says, "Not really. It makes you have a mind to go along with your heart that she scarred a long time ago."

His answer must've satisfied her somewhat, because she just nodded and looked at her mother one last time before going to go sit down.

The funeral service was beautiful, long, and overdone. Everything her mother did was overdone, though according to Trina, and apparently as soon as Dianna had learned about her cancer, she'd given plans to her assistant on what to do at the funeral. Trina even whispered to him that she was considering getting up and walking to the front to stop all of the long, drawn out speeches by her assistants and business partners that helped her out. Even the CEO of the company she was in business with had to shed a few tears, and they both knew that it was all per request of Dianna.

But she let the service go on, and afterward they all drove behind the hearse all the way to the cemetery where they put her down, six feet into the ground and buried her.

Tom felt Trina relax in his arms once the last shovel of dirt was over the casket. "You okay?" He whispers.

She nods softly, "She's gone...and like I said...that part of my life is gone, Tom..." She says back, sniffling and swallowing back some tears. "I'll miss her. I will. No matter how much I disliked her, I'll always love her. But she's gone."

He nods, understanding her point, and kisses her head once more. "Let's finish up and go home, okay? You should get some rest."

…

…

She slept on and off for at least sixteen hours a day that next two weeks they were home. The only time she hadn't slept was when they had to do important things, such as go to a lawyer to discuss the inheritance Trina was going to be receiving (she had no idea that she'd get it, either). They'd both taken off work for a little, Tom to help Trina, and Trina to recoup. He was worried that she may have fallen into a deeper depression than she was going to admit since she was sleeping so much. That was, until he went into the bathroom and saw a shredded up piece of paper in the trash can.

He almost never looks in it, but it just caught his eye before he was going to use the toilet. He takes it out of the trash, along with a few other pieces, and realizes that it's a doctor's paper from Dr. Fragert – her gynecologist. His brows furrow in confusion, wondering why she would be seeing her when she's so depressed anyway right now, but when he picks up the next shred it had a name for a referral to an obstetrician.

The wheels in his head were turning again, realizing she was pregnant.

He looked in through the open bathroom door, seeing her peacefully asleep. It made his heart sink to his stomach, but he wouldn't say anything. He wouldn't tell her that he saw the paper. He'd let her tell him on her own.

So many things were rushing inside his mind, though, like how the birth control hadn't worked, and how this must be affecting her since her mother just died so recently. He just puts the papers back in the trash where they'd come from, and takes a shaky breath as he walks out of the bathroom to go back to bed.

"Everything alright?" Trina asks sleepily, batting two tired eyes in his direction.

He wanted to say _I could ask you the same thing_, but refrained and nodded. "Yeah." He whispers, snuggling her close. He presses a kiss to her forehead, "Go back to sleep..."

She nods, closing her eyes again and soon falling asleep.

He wondered if she'd even tell him.

**...**

**...**

**Uh oh. Trina's pregnant. Officially. She even went to Dr. Fragert. You think she'll tell Tom? Leave your thoughts in the reviews please!**


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: Hey guys! **_

_**Here's a new chapter of Before the Deckers, and this one (like recent ones) is another game changer. Turns the tables and sets them up big-time for 1976.**_

**_We'll discuss it more after you read it ;)_**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_G._**

**_..._**

**_..._**

**_..._**

It's been two weeks since her mother died, she's finally recovered a bit and shaken everything off. She feels better about it, now, knowing that her mother is gone.

They've been meeting with Trina's newly hired lawyer, John Hyatt, about the chunk of money and the estate that she will be receiving from her mother. It's about five-hundred thousand dollars, give or take, plus the large mansion they used to live in. She was absolutely shocked when she learned that everything was left to Trina. She guessed that something would be left to an assistant or something stupid, another slap in the face to her. But, for once, her mother did something nice for her.

"You want a beer?" She asks softly standing by the refrigerator in only her underwear and a tank top, socks to go along with them.

He looks up from his paperwork he was doing from work, "No thanks." He says, furrowing his brows a little when he looks back down. "Trina?" He asks, and the tone his voice made Trina worry a bit.

"Yes?" She asks, walking in and popping the top on a bottleneck, sitting down with one leg under her, her other leg bent and her foot resting on the chair, sipping at the beer in her hand.

He sighs and shakes his head, "Why are you drinking?"

She gives him a look, shaking her head, "What do you mean, Tom? It's 7:30 at night, I can drink-"

"No, that's not what I mean." He says, getting mildly frustrated at her.

She studies his face, unsure of where he was going with this. "What are you talking about, Tom? Since when am I not allowed to drink?"

"You're really not going to tell me, are you?" He snips, looking at her angrily. "I thought after a year of us being together that you could at least have the decency to tell me such big news like this, Trina." He says, whipping the beer from her hand annoyed.

She's furious, grabbing the beer back from him, "Don't take things from my hands." She snaps, holding it closer and tighter. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you?!"

"You're pregnant! And I know it, too. But you're just...you're not even telling me and then you are so naive, Trina, that you don't know you're not supposed to drink."

Her heart falls into her stomach, and she looks down at the beer. "I'm not pregnant." She whispers, swallowing thickly and running her hand along the lip of the beer.

"What do you mean you're not pregnant? I saw the paper from Dr. Fragert, recommending and obstetrician for you, Trina. I _know_." He says, his face was getting all red from being frustrated with her.

She looks up at him angrily, a hint of watery eyes making her eyes glisten from the reflection of the late sunlight coming through the window. "I miscarried. Okay? You happy?" She snaps back, her voice cracking. "I was pregnant. Yes. And I was going to get rid of it. You're not my keeper, Tom, I don't have to report everything I do to you. But since you _must _know, I got pregnant six weeks ago tomorrow, and when I missed my cycle, I went to Dr. Fragert's office to get a pregnancy test done." She says, taking a shaky breath to gather her feelings for a moment. "And then I found out that, yes, I was pregnant-"

"Trina-"

"No. You don't get to speak right now." She says sadly, a tear falling down and running along her cheek. "I had made an appointment to terminate it. I wasn't ready for a baby, and neither are you. We're just kids, Tom. We may be older physically but mentally we're just two kids who don't care about real life responsibilities. We live in a fantasy." She says, clearing her throat and taking another deep breath. "But anyway, before the appointment rolled around, I started bleeding one day while we were on a route. It was in a hotel room, and I was in my own room that night..." She says, shaking her head. "I didn't want you to know."

"Why not, Trina?" He asks, shaking his head as well and setting the paperwork aside. "Why didn't you tell me? I thought we were a lot closer than that."

"Because I'm not a child, Tom. I may act like one but I don't have to have you as my parent, and I am not going to treat you like my parent." She states, standing up and slamming her beer down on the table so hard that it splashes and gets on his papers.

"Trina, wait!" He shouts, getting up as quick as he could, but she was already up the stairs by the time he got halfway to the bottom step.

The door was slamming shut, and she was on the inside of it with her knees to her chest, slid down on the carpet. She already didn't feel great about terminating the baby, but what else was she supposed to do? She certainly couldn't have a child, and Tom isn't ready either. They aren't child people.

She thinks about the conversations that they've had about this subject:

_She's had this happen once before, once with Luke. Her senior year, she thought she was pregnant and she knew there was a possibility. Come to find out, she was. But the baby didn't make it, and her mom beat her ass as soon as she got home from the hospital after the miscarriage. It's burned in her memory forever, and she's always been cautious. _

And this one:

"_Is it about last night?" He asks, finally, rushing down the stairs and standing in front of her in a desperate attempt to get her to stop. "I really, really am sorry, Trina. I just...I didn't even expect it. I don't think I've come that quick since I was a teenager..." He says sorrowfully, "You make me excited, Tri. Really excited." He continues, and by now she's forgotten that she hates being called Tri, because it sounds okay coming from him. "And you make me happy. And you make me feel...new and...I don't know how to explain all of this. And...I plan on one day finding out why you don't do relationships, because I plan on sticking around that long – no matter how long that may be – whether it's as a friend or a lover...I don't know. That's up to you because...you know how I feel about you, babe. And I think you know that I would do almost anything-"_

"_Stop." She says, meaning it as a demand but making it sound – accidentally – like more of a request. "I can't do this, Tom. I- do you understand what it's like for me right now? I don't think you do. Have you ever made the mistake of not pulling out?" She asks, waits a beat for him to shake his head, then continues, "So you don't know what I'm going through right now. I'm not mother material, which means I have to end the baby's life like I have done one other time before. I lost my first one, and I'm not getting pregnant and having a child. I know you don't have to worry about it, because why would you? You're just the man who injected sperm into a woman, not a father."_

It hurts her to know that this is her second baby that she's lost. She shouldn't have even told him, because now he'll have a bunch of questions about how it happened and when and why. She's beginning to get a rotten feeling in the pit of her stomach that she can't ever have children – and she's not sure why she's upset about that. She doesn't want children, and she never will want children.

…

…

Thirty minutes of Trina and Tom sitting against the same door, just back to back, and Tom finally slides his hand under the door. "Trina?" He whispers, and his fingers find hers.

She looks down at his hand, tears clouding her view before she wipes them away. She moves her hand just a little bit, away from his. "I said I don't want to talk, Tom." She says, her voice shaky from her soft crying she's been doing.

"Then don't talk, just listen to what I have to say." He whispers back, keeping his hand right there. "I was a jerk, I guess."

"You guess?" She coos sadly, wondering how he only _guesses _he was a jerk. He was a full-on, hardcore jerk (in her mind).

"Yeah, Tri...I'm just as new to this serious relationship stuff as you are." He says softly, sighing a little before continuing. "You're right, you're totally right when you say we're not ready for a baby. And I mean, I guess you don't have to _report _everything to me that you do." He says sadly. "It's just...I don't like it. I don't know."

She sniffles, "Do you report everything that you do to me?" She asks, looking straight forward again at their bed.

He lets out another sigh, swallowing thickly, "No. I don't." He whispers, and she can hear his hair scruff against the door – she knows that he's shaking his head. "And that's why I'm apologizing for getting upset. It's just..._different_." He says. "I'm not used to having someone who doesn't tell me their every move."

"I'm a private person." She breathes, sniffling again and leaning her head against the door, wrapping her arms around her legs again now that she's a little bit colder.

He nods against the door again, "I know you are...I just wasn't thinking about that and taking _that _into consideration when I got upset in there, Tri. I'm sorry."

"Sometimes your sorry doesn't sound all that sorrowful, Tom."

"It is." He says sadly, sniffling now, too.

She sighs, shaking her head and batting her eyelids, trying to make some of the tears go away. "I just don't feel like I need to tell you my every move, Tom. I know it was our baby, but it was my body. I don't want my body to have to go through pregnancy or labor or birth."

"Which is fine..." Tom says back.

She sniffles again, "It doesn't seem too fine."

"We aren't kid people, Tri. We established that. We're not _parents..._we never will be."

She swallows thickly and looks back down at his hand. She wants to take it, but she's still just so irritated with him for being like this toward her. "Promise me you won't ask a bunch of questions about the miscarriage and make me re-live all of that pain." She whispers, laying her hand down next to his, but not where he can reach it yet.

After a short pause, she can hear him lick his lips before he finally says, "Promise." and sniffles again.

They both had the sniffles. They both were upset from one another.

Finally, she reaches for his hand and tangles her fingers with his, giving it a light squeeze before he squeezes hers. This was one of their few disagreements, and on this one, they'll learn to just leave it at that – a disagreement.

…

…

The phone is ringing off the hook. It's been a month since the baby mishap, and Trina and Tom are on the couch, too busy making out to even want to answer the phone. It stops, but then starts again and she groans. "We should answer that." She murmurs as he's peppering kisses down her bare neck (and almost everything else).

He grumbles a bit as he pulls away from her skin, reaching over and rolling off of her naked body, standing up to finally grab the phone. "This is Tom." He says, seemingly annoyed that he has a full hard-on and he has to talk on the phone now.

She can halfway hear it on the other end, and she can tell that it's John Hyatt – their lawyer for the inheritance and all. "Tom, hey, is Trina there?"

"Of course she is." He answers, handing the phone to Trina with an unamused look. "It's John, he said he needed to talk to you about your mom's mansion."

She sighs and takes the phone after a short eye roll, sitting up and wrapping her arm around her chest. She was cold, now that Tom wasn't supplying body heat from on top of her. "This is Trina." She coos.

"Trina! Hey! Good news."

"Good news?" She asks, raising a brow. "What good news do you have for me, John?"

"Your mother's house sold. In all, you'll be receiving one check for five-hundred thousand, for your inheritance, and then after you sign the papers to say the house is officially sold, you'll be receiving another check for one point one million."

"_One point one million?!_" She gasps, her eyes widening, she sits up straight and puts her feet on the ground. "Is that what I just heard you say?"

"Correct! It sold for a little over the asking price due to two different people wanting it. These people finally made an offer and we knew we couldn't refuse that."

Trina puts a hand over her mouth, and then scrubs it up to her eyes so she doesn't get all emotional. It's only been almost two months since her mother died – and only about a month since they finally got it on the market. "Oh, wow." She whispers, her voice getting caught in her throat. "You sure you are shitting me, Hyatt?"

"Positive." He chuckles into the phone, "No, really. It sold for that much, Tri..."

"Wow." She whispers again. It's all she can seem to even _think _about saying right now. She's rich. She no longer _has _to eat Ramen Noodles to save up for a car (even though she's been carpooling with Tom, or taking his car when he isn't working to wherever she needed to go. It'll still be nice to have her own). She looks up at Tom and smiles, crying out, "It sold!"

"It sold?" He asks, smiling as well and sitting down beside her, leaning on her a little.

"It sold." She confirms, rubbing her cheek happily and shaking her head. "Can I meet up with you tonight to sign the papers and all of that?" She asks John, still so in _shock _that she didn't even know what to do with herself.

"Of course you can. Meet me at the office at 4:00."

"Tom and I will be there." She says, "Thank you, John."

After their goodbyes, she hangs up and looks at Tom, totally dumbfounded. "That's one point six million going into my bank account, Tom..." She whispers, her eyes wide and a little bit teary. "I-"

"You know what we should do with that?" He asks her, smiling a little bit.

She chuckles softly, shaking her head, "Save it?" She says, completely at a loss.

"That, and we should do a little bit of investing." He says. His business mind was turning now, and she's thankful for it, but she already had that part thought through.

"I know." She whispers, nodding and smiling, trying to take a deep breath. She didn't realize it until now, but the few breaths she's taken have been short. "Yeah...w-we need to invest." She says, batting her eyes and letting out a laugh. "One point six _million_, Tom! In my bank account!"

"Not yet." He teases, winking a little bit and kissing her lovingly, his erection rubbing against her thigh.

She smiles down at his hardened cock, "Maybe we should celebrate?" She asks, taking it in her hand and gently swiping her thumb over his tip.

A whimper comes from him – he wasn't expecting her to do that. He then smiles, and raises a brow, "Do you think I would say no to that?" He coos, and before he can press her backwards she does it to him.

Straddling him, looking down at him, she smirks, "I think we have had enough foreplay, don't you?" She whispers, still holding his cock under her, between her legs. She's still smiling, waiting on him to say something. It was a few seconds, and he never answered. She batted her eyes and shrugs a little bit, "Yeah?" She asks again, chuckling.

"Sorry." He whispers, looking at her like she was a sudden angel that had fallen from heaven and right on top of him. She can't help but chuckle at his silly expression, one of complete awe. "I don't think I tell you enough how beautiful you really are."

She feels her cheeks redden and she chuckles quietly, "I'm already straddling you, about to sink down on you...you don't have to suck up to me..."

"It's not sucking up." He whispers again, gently placing a hand on each of her hips, her fingers softly kneading her ass. "But to answer your earlier question, we've had enough foreplay." He says quietly, smiling before he urges his hips up into her.

She sinks down onto him, moaning a little bit and sitting right on him, taking him in quickly. "Mmm." She murmurs, her head tilting back, her fingers gently tracing over her neck. "You feel so good." She whispers, closing her eyes before leaning her body forward, balancing herself by holding his biceps.

"So do you." He murmurs, pulling his body up to press a hot kiss to her lips. "I love you."

"I love you too." She says immediately, smiling as she slowly moves off his cock, then slowly back down on it. It's slow, gentle, and not like usual. He's still kneading at her skin, and they're looking in each other's eyes which is something that only happens rarely – they usually both have their eyes closed. She can't help but smile, chuckling a little before a tear falls on his chest. "Sorry." She whispers, moving just a tad bit faster.

"Why are you crying?" He whispers, taking one hand off of her hip and bringing it to her face, wiping underneath her eye and smiling sadly up at her, gently pressing his hips to hers.

She shrugs and sniffles, leaning down to kiss him lovingly, still rolling her hips and fucking him. "I just...got a little overwhelmed right there for a second. We're really in love." She chuckles, leaning up to position herself better, getting a better angle.

He smiles at the reposition, bringing his hand back to her hip and squeezing gently. "We are." He whispers back, biting his lip before picking up the pace a little more. "Is this good?" He asks, waiting for her to match his pace.

It's still slow and soft, but it's just a little more intense for the both of them. "Good." She coos quietly, meeting his hips with hers.

They went like this at a steady rhythm for a few minutes, both of them already highly aroused from all the foreplay they were doing before that phone call. She felt him twitch inside of her, and she smiles down at him. "I'm about to come, too.." She whispers, assuring him to not hold out. She could feel her walls tightening around his thick cock, and it wasn't any time before she came, and he came shortly after.

...

...

...

_**One point six million dollars woooooo. This is the game changer I was talking about, well and the other part was that this is where Trina's feminist views kick in. **_

_**But back to the inheritance.**_

_**This is going to be how they have the house. But I need y'all's help...**_

_**My question is, **__**when should they buy their house together? **__**After they're married or before they're married? And if it's before, when? **_

**_I really appreciate your opinions when you guys review. I read each and every one of them when they pop into my email and take them into consideration to try to give y'all a fun story to read._**

**_Thank you so much for reading this story and for enjoying it. Please help me out and answer the above question in the reviews...it'd mean a lot._**

**_G._**


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: Hey guys!**_

_**Sorry it took me so long on this chapter. I just got stuck on where I wanted to go next and I kinda went a different route than I was going to at first because I CAN'T REMEMBER THE FIRST PLOT I HAD :( This is why I have to write EVERYTHING down as soon as I think of it. Ugh.**_

**_But anyway, I hope you enjoy!_**

**_G._**

**_..._**

**_..._**

**_..._**

She brings him his coffee every morning, still, once their whole crew is settled on the plane and finished boarding passengers. Once she steps out, she gives the announcement, and soon after they're off into the air once again.

December always makes the air rough to fly in. Winter months make her nervous, even though Tom says he _has it all under control, babe. _She just rolls her eyes a little each time he says that. She hates the amount of turbulence the plane gets during the winter, plus the rough landings and all the ice always makes her nervous.

Unless, of course, when they're landing in Miami. It's nice and warm there all year round. Sometimes she wishes that during the winter, she never had to go back to Chicago. But, unfortunately, she couldn't leave Tom, and Tom couldn't leave his mother, and there's no _way _Mel would leave her beloved city of Chicago. So she stays. Besides, it's just a silly thought in her head.

Their flight is going just fine until they experience a lot more turbulence than even Trina is used to. She steps out of the pantry and presses the intercom that goes only into the pilots' cabin, "Tom? Is everything okay?" She asks, a little shakiness in her voice makes her remember she's in good hands, that she has nothing to be afraid of.

"Not really." Rex answers, which is not the reply that she wanted. "We're about to make an emergency landing in Atlanta. The wind gusts are too bad and the weather is about to get even worse on the ground before we can get a chance to land. I'll keep you up-to-date in a sec." He states, and then the intercom goes off and she looks over at Patty who was listening in the whole time.

She clears her throat, rubbing her arm softly, "So..." She says, trying to make conversation with the blonde so that she wouldn't keep thinking about the dangerous things that could happen. That's just how she works, she has to keep her mind off of things by talking about other things. "Was your Thanksgiving a good one?" She asks.

Patty nods a little, "Oh yeah." She says, smirking. "Since Brian and I don't really have any family nearby and didn't want to travel out, we went to this club." She chuckles, shaking her head. "I had...let's see..." She pauses dramatically to count on her fingers, "Three big cocks to be _very _thankful for that night."

Trina gasps playfully, but she was also kind of in shock. "Perfect Patty likes orgies?" She teases. "I didn't know." She adds in, shrugging. "I haven't ever had anyone else than just one person. What's it like?"

Patty lets out a laugh that almost makes Trina jump, "Seriously? Out of all the sexual things you've done, Trina, you haven't had a threesome?"

"I've never had that point in a relationship where I wanted to." She shrugs, "With my only real boyfriend before Tom, we were young. We just wanted each other, never really thought of adding people in." She chuckles, shaking her head and shrugging once again, "Tom...I'm afraid Tom would just..."

"Like it too much?" She asks, chuckling sadly before Trina gives her a little nod. "Trina, you've been dating him over a year now. You still suspect he'd cheat on you?"

"All men cheat eventually, Patty." She says, popping a peanut into her mouth from one of the trays that they were going to be serving until the weather came through. "And so will Tom. I'd rather not have sex with the person he'll cheat with."

She rolls her eyes, "Tom is so in love with you." She states, almost sounding annoyed. "Don't you realize it?"

Trina looks up at her, swallowing the peanut and staying silent. She knows he loves her. She loves him, too. But the way Patty says it, it sounds like he's her husband or something of the sort. "Yeah I do...but-"

"No buts." Patty says. "Brian and I have been married almost two years now and we swap all the time." She shrugs, "It just brings us closer together in the end. Plus the sex with him...mmph." She groans, biting her lip and squirming against the wall.

Trina chuckles, rolling her eyes. "Someone needs laid."

"Someone wants laid." Patty teases. "Just...it's awkward at first. I'm still not used to seeing him screw another woman, but," She pauses again, sighing as she seems to be trying to figure out the words she'd like to use. Finally, she continues, "But like I said, the afterward is better than you could ever imagine. You just have to let yourself go and let yourself watch him have fun, as well as let yourself have fun..." She explains.

She looks at the woman again, wondering if she's gone crazy or if this whole swapping thing is actually a good idea. "How the hell do you _let loose_? You're one of the most up-tight people." Trina says, laughing it off, even though it's true. It's one of those remarks that's being sarcastic but deep down has a truth in it.

Patty just chuckles, thinking Trina was simply only being sarcastic. "Quaaludes. I take one, and then Brian takes one too. It helps us both relax a bit and enjoy it more..."

"You? Drugs?" Trina laughs again, "Out of the year and a half I've known you, I wouldn't have ever pinned you as a druggie..."

"I'm not a druggie." She says, rolling her eyes at Trina. "We just take Quaaludes. That's all. You know if I took anything else I'd lose my job."

Trina looks down, considering for a short second before Tom announces to their pantry intercom that they need to make the announcement of an emergency landing in Atlanta, and that it's an expected layover of at least ten hours.

Ten hours. It leaves enough time for some hotel room fun, at least, whenever they have a layover.

…

…

It's only about 10:30 at night right now, and Tom and Trina have brought in their small suitcases filled with a change of clothes, taken their showers, and settled into the couch close to the window. The snow was falling beautifully; the airport was in sight but further away, and it was absolutely covered in snow.

Trina snuggles into Tom a little, watching the snow fall with him and listening to his breaths. "Hey Tom?" She whispers, trying to bring herself to asking this next question. When he acknowledges her whisper with a kiss on her head, she continues, "Remember that time you brough up...adding people into our bedroom?" She asks softly.

He doesn't move, doesn't change his breathing, but instead murmurs, "Mhm..."

Trina looks down at his arm that was around her, right below her breasts. Her hand is resting on his arm, and she starts running her thumb along the top of it. "I was kind of reconsidering the idea..."

"Really?" He asks softly, no happiness in his voice, just a calm, steady tone.

She nods softly, craning her neck to look up at him. "Yeah..." She says quietly. "I thought maybe I could take a Quaalude just to calm me down while watching it all unfold. I...I may like it."

He chuckles a little, kissing her nose. She gets confused, and is about to say something until he stops her with his lips on hers. "What brought this up, hm?"

She shrugs, rubbing her eye. "I just...Patty and I were talking about it. I was trying to take my mind off of the storm and all." She says. "And she said it really made the afterward sex with Brian way better than ever. She said it wasn't lacking before, but it just makes it that much more intimate I guess."

He runs his fingers through her hair softly, "Do you trust me enough?" He asks.

She takes a moment to consider his words, roll them around in her brain a little. "I do..." She says, again very quietly. "And I swear, Tom Decker, if you do it without me sometime I'll cut your dick off and stuff it into your balls..."

He chuckles softly, shaking his head and sighing. "Here you were being so sweet and then bam." He teases for a moment. "But you can bet your bottom dollar that I'd never cheat on you, Trina..." He says. "Let's make a pact. This doesn't mean a threesome or whatever, but just a pact just in case we decide to do a threesome." He says, and she looks up at him again in anticipation of what he's going to say. "Let's say you find someone you want to sleep with, but I'm not there. You can pass it by me, and if I say yes it's okay, you can do it without me. Vice versa, you approve of someone I may want to sleep with if you're not there..."

"I...I don't know, Tom..." She says, shaking her head a little. Breathing in, she closes her eyes to try and toss the idea around of sleeping with another man. She doesn't really want to without Tom, but one day, maybe she might want to. "Okay. But please, Tom, I don't like that idea. So let's not use that one much..."

"I certainly won't." He shrugs. "I honestly don't have anyone I would want to sleep with right now, without you..." He shrugs softly.

She looks up at him again, "Not even _Juicy Jessica_?" She asks, mocking the name. "I heard Rex say it the other day when I came in to give you your coffee. Isn't she the girl that works in the cinnamon roll place at the airport?"

"Yes." Tom chuckles, shaking his head. "Rex is crazy. Juicy Jessica is a saying because she's constantly chewing gum and like..._spitting _it everywhere. It's disgusting."

"Oh." Trina says, laughing and letting a little looser. She feels more relaxed now, knowing he has no one in mind.

After a few moments of their silence after the laughter, he looks down and presses a kiss to her head. "So you want to have a threesome?"

"Or foursome...either way..." She says softly.

Tom nods a little, rubbing her arm. "I...may have someone who'd want to sleep with you..." He says. "I don't have any women that I know of that's here right now to sleep with us, but I do know a man."

"Who?" She asks

He bites his lip a little, "You know the guy that directs the planes? He's an old buddy of mine. Unmarried, used to work up in Chicago with me after graduating in my class, but he moved here and started in this airport..." He says. "This way, I know him, but we'd almost never have to see him again." He says.

She bites her lip as well, the thought actually exciting her a little. "But that would mean we'd have to do it tonight?" She asks, her face falling slightly.

"Yeah..." Tom says softly. "But isn't that okay? It's at least a ten hour layover, so you know that means more like at least thirteen hours."

She nods, taking a shaky breath and looking up at him with a shy smile. "Let's do it...let's call him."

He smiles a little bit, kissing her on the lips lovingly before picking up the phone and a phone book.

…

…

"It's been a long time, Tommy." Alan says, smiling as he shakes Tom's hand while he steps into their hotel room. The lights are all off except one, and that was the bathroom light.

Trina was laying down on the bed, naked and a little nervous. She'd taken a Quaalude that Tom had picked up from Patty, and she was starting to relax a tiny bit. She could hear Tom and Alan around the corner, and then their footsteps. Closer, closer, and then she hears, "Hot damn, Tommy. You lucked out." from Alan, as he stands there a bit dumbfounded.

Trina feels her face redden with blush, and she bites her lip just under her hand so he couldn't see. Tom pats Alan's back, "And her personality matches that smokin' hot bod."

They both get out a laugh before walking to the bed. Tom climbs in and slides Trina into his arms. She smiles at him, sitting up with him and wrapping her legs around his waist. "Hello handsome..." She coos, not even realizing what she was saying. _Apparently the Quaalude is working_. "Wanna watch me get fucked by another man?" She asks.

Tom smirks and runs his fingers through her hair. "Hell yeah." He whispers.

She feels the bed move, and Alan – who was also relaxed thanks to a Quaalude – is climbing in behind her. She feels his warm hands on her chilled back above where Tom's arms were wrapped, and then they slowly slide up and start rubbing her shoulders.

Trina moans, melting backwards into his touch. "You have wonderful hands, Alan." She whispers up at him, smirking a little. Meanwhile, since she was leaned back into Alan with her head in his lap, her hips and Tom's hips were still together. He slides out from underneath her just slightly before wetting his fingers in his mouth, bringing them down to her center and rubbing. "Oh..." She moans louder than she'd expected from that. She hadn't expected Tom to touch her yet, but it felt so good.

And now, Alan's hands are moving down toward her breasts. She realizes, though, that both of them are still mostly fully dressed. Tom has everything on but a shirt, and Alan has only taken his coat, hat, and gloves off. "You're far too dressed for this task, gentlemen." She coos, rolling on her belly slowly and sitting up onto her knees. She turns around, facing Tom first before kissing him. Her tongue slides into his mouth immediately, his own tongue welcoming her before they share a few sloppy kisses while she works on the buttons of his pants. Once they're undone, she's happy to know Tom went commando for this situation.

She turns again, back to face Alan. She hasn't kissed another man other than Tom in a while, but hell, Alan was a good looking man. He was tall and built differently than Tom, he was more broad in his shoulders and chest, definitely had been a weightlifter at one time, but not recently. He may have a slight gut now, but it was still toned for the most part. She almost rips his buttons on his shirts – definitely not one of her more graceful moments. "Sorry." She chuckles, looking up into his eyes and smiling. Together, they close the short gap between their lips.

She can hear Tom behind her, gulping a little. Then she feels his hands wrap around her waist, rubbing downwards until he's kneading her hips and ass. She smirks against Alan's lips, not being as passionate as she had been with Tom's kisses. Now that she feels Tom's major jealousy in the way he's kneading her, she bends over and lets her ass be in his face, and she looks back at her boyfriend with a devilish smile. "Like what you see?" She asks.

"Love what I see." Tom replies, taking her ass in his hands and burying his face into her center as he lays down stomach first onto the bed to eat her out.

Moaning, Trina reaches down and undoes Alan's pants, reaching slowly to his belly and tracing her long nails down below his belly button. He looks at her in anticipation, and she slowly reaches into his underwear, taking his cock. It's not as thick as Tom's, she can already tell, but it's long. It may even be longer than Tom's, but she can't tell just by feeling with her hand.

She looks up into Alan's eyes, moving a little bit and breaking away from Tom's mouth on her, kissing Alan's lips gently. "You like to be sucked off?" She whispers, just to make him go a little more wild. Every man likes to be sucked off.

When he nods like a mad man, chuckling a little, she smirks and takes his pants off along with his underwear, leaving everyone on the bed naked finally. _The way it should be_, she thinks. She plays with his half-hardened length in her hand a little, flopping it side to side gently while moaning from Tom's magical tongue inside of her entrance. "Fuck..." She murmurs, shutting her eyes when he leaves her entrance to suck on her clit. "Mmph..." She lets out a breath, swallowing thickly before taking Alan's mostly hardened cock into her mouth.

She sinks her mouth down onto him a little, and she knows now he's definitely longer than Tom. He's a little too long, Tom's cock fits perfect without gagging her, but she can also gag if he wants her to do so. Alan, she can't get to the base of him unless she wants to gag. And she doesn't want to do that right now. Instead, she swirls her tongue around on his tip, moaning and vibrating her lips against his skin. She feels his hands through her hair, and they both let out a loud moan.

Feeling like Tom was a little left out, she sits up and lets Tom sit up as well. She was now between the two of them, but they were all facing toward the wall, away from the headboard. She takes both of their cocks into two hands, smirking as she silently compares one to another. Tom's was definitely nicer. She knows. "Mmmm...I want both of these cocks to fuck me..." She coos, looking up at Tom and batting her eyes.

He smiles a little, "Anything for you, baby..." He whispers. "Let's let Alan go first..." He says, kissing her a bit sloppily.

She nods, laying back with her elbows behind her to support her upper body up off of the bed. She looks over at Alan, winks once, and smirks, "Come fuck me, handsome..." She coos, gesturing one finger for him to move closer.

He smirks back at her, looking at Tom for a moment – who was just hot and sweaty already without even having hardly anything done.

She spreads her legs, waiting for Alan to move into her, and finally he sees the opportunity and takes it. She moans a little when he sinks all the way into her. Tom doesn't do that, he waits for her to adjust. She's loose right now...they've had a lot of sex. But it still wasn't exactly the best feeling to have a long cock shoved inside of you like that. She reaches out for Tom's hand in a jerk reaction, squirming underneath Alan.

"You okay?" Tom whispers, laying down beside her head.

She nods softly, reaching up and kissing him lovingly while Alan starts moving inside of her. "I love you..." She whispers.

The pace quickens, and she likes it. She loves the pace right now, now that she's adjusted and they're both a little more lubricated from her wetness. She gestures for Tom to sit up, and when he does, she tells him to sit with his cock over her mouth. He does as he's told, and she takes his cock between her lips, sucking on Tom as Alan is fucking her harder and harder. "Mmmm..._mmmm..._Oh, Alan..." She moans, taking her mouth off for a moment as she squirms a little bit more. "Fuck..."

Tom looks down, clears his throat, feeling a little jealous, it seemed. Trina smirked a little bit, reaching behind him and rubbing his ass like he was doing to hers. "You're so fucking sexy, Tom..." She whispers, her breasts bouncing up as Alan pounds into her. "O-o-o-ohhh..." She moans, grasping at Tom's asscheeks before taking his balls into her mouth, sucking gently on them so she wouldn't be quite so loud in this thin-walled room.

Once Alan was finished inside of her, they switched positions. Trina laid on her side while Tom laid behind her, sliding his cock slowly into her and letting her adjust. She looks back at him lovingly, smiling softly. "I love you..." She whispers, kissing him lovingly and giving him the okay to start moving.

Alan lays down in front of her, reaching down and rubbing her clit while the pace got quicker with Tom. "Ohhhh...fuck." She moans. She's pretty sure she's never felt the need, not the want, but the _need _to cuss this much during sex. Patty was so fucking right, the sex with your partner is so much better after sex with someone else.

…

…

Once they were back at their home in Chicago after a long flight back, they snuggled up into bed even though it was only about seven in the evening. "I'm really glad we had that threesome..." She whispers, tracing her fingers along his naked chest.

He smiles softly, kissing her head. "I am too...it was amazing..." He whispers back. "Ours...our sex was...it was amazing." He admits.

She nods, looking up into his eyes. "I don't know why I was so nervous." She admits finally. It has bothered her that she was so nervous, and she's not sure why she was.

"About?"

"About having another man have sex with me." She says, sighing. "I was nervous over that. That's why I took the Quaalude." She says, chuckling sadly. "I'm not that kind of person." She says, shaking her head.

He smiles softly, kissing her lips. "But that just shows you really do love me..." He whispers.

A soft smile appears on her lips, and she nods at him, "I definitely do, Tom Decker." She says to him, kissing his lips as well. "Even if we are millionaires and are still living in this silly apartment." She chuckles.

They haven't spent a dime of the inheritance yet. They're saving it for the perfect house, which they have not found yet in the past few months. So they're waiting, and also her bank is paying interest on the lump sum that's in her account. It's a win win, because they'll get the house they want, and they're still earning money off of it.

He rolls his eyes playfully, "I know...but we just...we gotta find _the _house. No matter how long it takes." He says.

She nods, smiling, "_The _house..."

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_**THE house ;) **_

_**So, what'd you think of Tom and Trina's first experience as a couple who has opened up their bedroom? Leave me your thoughts and comments and {{CONSTRUCTIVE}} criticism please ;) if you have something bad about it to say, please at least say it nicely lol.**_

_**Thanks!**_

_**G.**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it took me a little longer. New job and such...it's craziness and also brings along a lot of writer's block since I'm always tired again lol.**_

_**Hopefully I'll get back into the "swing" of things ;) (sorry for the cheesiness of that pun used here)**_

_**Big chapter! Well, it's short, but big. Big things. **_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**G.**_

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"Bye..." She coos, standing at their door with just a robe wrapped around her body, watching the other couple leave. Tom comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, smirking before kissing her cheek.

"That was fun." He whispers as she shuts the door. "Anthony and Michelle are quite the firecrackers."

She nods, turning in his arms to face him, smiling up into his eyes before pressing a kiss to his lips. "So were Brad and Sylvia." She coos, batting her eyes before smiling a little more deviously. "I'm glad we started swinging, Tom. Patty was so right..." She says, pausing to sigh, "It really does bring you even closer once the others are gone...it makes me love you even more."

He smiles, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I love you, too." He whispers. "Come on, let's start on those Christmas cookies for my mom's house." He says, chuckling. "You _know_ she'll chew us out if we don't bring cookies on Christmas Eve."

She chuckles, nodding and rolling her eyes. "I love that woman. She's such a riot..." She coos, shaking her head before strolling off to the kitchen, fixing her robe a little. "It's crazy to think that I've known her now for almost two years. All started with nails."

"Well, technically it started with me." He corrects, teasing her a little and nudging her arm as she's getting the things out for them to bake. "I mean we met before you two met, it was just coincidence that your nail technician was _my _mother."

She rolls her eyes at him, shrugging. "I suppose you're right, sort of." She says begrudgingly, then adds, "It did start with you, because she asked what was on my mind and of course you were. And then I complained about you the whole time I was getting my nails filled." She says, shrugging proudly before shooting him a tiny smirk.

"_Me?!_" He asks playfully, "What could little old me have possibly done to make you vent to my mother for near two hours, hm?" He asks, chuckling before getting the things out for the cookies.

Trina starts getting the mixing bowl out with and the beater, "Oh, little old you knows _exactly _what you did to make me vent to poor Mel for two hours."

"Poor Mel." He mocks, scoffing a laugh. "Nothing poor about that woman...she's invincible."

She looks up at him, sighing sadly, "Tom, you know good and well this could easily be Mel's last Christmas..." She says sadly. "You know she's having those heart issues, and the doctors said they're only going to get worse."

Tom looks away, resting his hand on the bag of flour and hanging his head. "Tri..." He whispers sadly, "I don't want to think of it like that."

She sighs sadly, walking up behind him and gluing herself to his back. "You know it's true, babe. So let's make this Christmas a really great one." She whispers.

He shakes his head and clenches his eyes shut. "I can't lose both parents yet..." He says, clearing his throat. Trina can tell he's trying to not get choked up. "I mean, she has to see me marry my love one day...she has to see...she has to see..." He stops, because he can't think of anything else right off of the top of his head.

"Maybe she will see us get married." She whispers, then pauses and huffs a little laugh, "If your love is me, of course..." She teases lightheartedly. "I was actually really hoping you'd bring it up to talk about it again..."

"What, marriage?" Tom asks, bending his neck around to see her, exposing his reddened – but not yet tear-stained – face.

She nods softly, "Yeah..."

"You could've brought it up, you know..." He says, chuckling sadly. "I don't have to do all of the heavy work..."

She smiles, rolling her eyes at him. "You know me, I'm terrified of marriage...but I wouldn't want to be terrified and have someone I don't trust and love, Tom..." She says, shrugging a little. "I know that together, we can make a really great team."

"I know that too." Tom says, turning around so that his whole body is facing hers.

She wraps her arms around his neck and bites her lip a little, "So, I guess what I'm telling you is...if you asked me, I wouldn't say no." She whispers.

His eyes light up, and he got one of the biggest smiles she's ever seen him have. "Okay...I'll keep that in mind." He whispers.

…

…

The Christmas cookies were made, the car was packed with the presents for each other and for Mel, and their stockings to hang up in Mel's house were setting up on top of the presents in the back seat. Tom drove there, and Trina helped unload everything while Mel was kissing all over Tom's face (which made Trina laugh, like always).

He had to go to the store, and once Mel stopped kissing him, she went inside with Trina. "You're a riot, Mel." Trina says, chuckling a bit and shaking her head as she prepares the cookies to be served in a nicer way than just a paper plate.

Mel smiles a little, taking a deep, shaky breath before sitting down in the chair. "I try to be." She teases, clearing her throat. "Snickerdoodles?" She asks, nodding toward the cookies.

Trina shakes her head, "Nope, they're this crazy recipe Tom got from Rex. They're called Buckeyes, and they're a peanut butter cookie with a Hershey's Kiss in the middle. They're very delicious, I already had five." She admits, laughing and biting her lip.

The older woman laughs as well, resting her head in her hand, "Hand me one." She whispers "Tom doesn't have to know."

Trina laughs, shrugging, "Can't see what it would hurt." She says, handing her one before she puts a cover over the decorative plate, scooting them to the side so they'd be out of the way.

Mel's face lights up as she's chewing the first bite, "These are delicious. What are they again?"

"Buckeyes." She replies, digging through her purse for the recipe card. "I figured you may want a copy." She says, handing it to Mel.

She nods vigorously, taking it into her fingers as she's chewing the last bite. "Mm, so easy to make too." She says.

Trina nods, "Easy enough that Tom didn't have to help a whole lot." She admits, laughing again.

"It wasn't another Thanksgiving fiasco, was it?" Mel teases. When Trina shakes her head with a smile on her face, Mel continues on, "That's already been two years ago, isn't that crazy? It seems like yesterday when you asked me to paint your nails red."

She nods softly, sitting down at the dining table once she hands Mel the recipe. "I have something to ask you, Mel. And it's kind of serious, too."

It got her attention, definitely, and she sits down as well after tucking the card into her recipe box. "What is it, hun?" She asks, furrowing her slivers of brows, now kind of just a few hairs to mark what used to be. (_Age does crazy things to a person_, she once said).

"Marriage." Trina blurts out, looking up into the older woman's eyes. "Tom and I...we had a nice little talk about it." She says softly, a tiny smile growing up on her lips. "I told him that...that I wouldn't say _no _if he asked me to-"

"Really?" Mel whispers, awed at what Trina was saying. "You would possibly be marrying my little boy?" She whispers.

Trina smiles softly, nodding a little. "Hopefully, one day." She coos, taking a shaky breath before leaning on the table a bit more. "I feel that he's the only one I'll ever meet in my life that will get me enough to be my husband. I mean, he knows me. He loves me, even when I'm downright rude to him." She says, bringing her smile back along with some watery eyes. "I just never imagined a husband and a home. But he makes me want that."

Mel smiles proudly, straightening herself a little when Trina says those last few words. "I am proud of him for making you want that, hun." She says, reaching out for Trina's hand that was resting on the table currently, laying hers on top of Trina's. "I'm so happy that you're considering it. He came to me and talked about it a few months back, back during the summer or something, but he said he just didn't think you were ready yet and that he may scare you off."

"Oh he definitely would've back then." Trina breathes, shaking her head, "I'm glad he didn't ask me then. Losing my mom and such, it made me see things in a different way, even though I wasn't all that close to her. I guess the money part of it all helped, too. I want to buy a house with Tom, which made me realize even more how much I wanted to spend my life with him. Which is scary, but-"

"Don't be scared." Mel cuts in, shrugging. "You two have lived together for what, almost two years? Close to two years?"

"Closer to one year." Trina says.

She nods softly, "One year, even. That's a lot of time to spend with someone every single day, sharing the same bathroom, cooking meals with them, all of that."

Trina nods and smiles softly, "I'm just happy you're happy, too, Mel. You're really the mother I never had, you know that right?"

…

…

_Merry Christmas, babe._

That's the first thing she hears at about 8:00 on Christmas morning. She turns over to see his face, kissing his lips gently. "Good morning, and Merry Christmas to you too, handsome." She coos with a soft smile.

He rubs her arm a little, turning her to where her front side is against him instead of her back. "Sleep well?" He asks.

She nods a little, "I always sleep well in this bed for some reason. Your mother's guest bed is the best." She says, laughing a little before sighing. "We had a talk last night – me and your mom. She said she was happy that we were considering marriage."

"Good, good." Tom whispers, a little smile creeping onto his face before he lets out a soft laugh. "She'd better be happy. She and I had talked about it-"

"A few months back." Trina interrupts, laughing. "I know, she told me."

"Can't keep nothing a secret anymore..." Tom murmurs, rolling his eyes.

She just laughs again, shrugging, "It was okay though. It just reassured me even more that we're serious..."

He nods, smiling before pecking her lips. "Speaking of the old woman," He teases, "She's probably up and raring to eat breakfast. Let's get down there before she comes up here."

They agree on that very quickly before getting up. Tom throws on a tee shirt and a sweater, since there was a little bit of chill in the house, and Trina puts on her robe over her pajamas. They both were wearing last year's slippers that they exchanged with each other (slippers – because everyone likes slippers. It's an easy first Christmas gift to break the ice with).

"Well good morning, you night owls, you!" Mel shouts from the kitchen table, getting up and lifting the lid up off of the plate of pancakes. "Fresh made, about an hour ago." She says, chuckling. "Thought you'd be up earlier."

"You could've waken us up." Trina says, chuckling and sitting down at the table to eat.

Once they eat and have a little small talk, Tom turns into a five year old, asking when they're going to open presents. Trina stayed up last night and filled the stockings with frivolous, fun things, and Mel and Tom filled her stocking with fun things as well. It was like the Christmases Trina had always wanted when growing up, but never seemed to get.

"Let's go through our stockings first." Mel says as they all head into the small, heavily decorated living room.

They all get situated in their places. Tom and Trina sat in the floor together, that way they could hand Mel her presents in her chair. Trina hands Tom his stocking after giving Mel's to her, and she chuckles, "Yours is heavy." She says to him, nudging him with her elbow.

He smirks a little, "More coal in mine." He says, shooting her a quick wink.

She laughs, beginning to dig through hers. The top of it had chocolate Santa's, a new spatula (probably from Mel, since she knows that she's been trying to cook a little more), a new color of polish for Mel to use on her, and a few other odds and ends.

She gets to the bottom and pulls out a small box, and the whole time Tom is watching her. She takes it between her fingers, "You shouldn't have gotten anything expensive, Tom..." She says softly, still holding the closed box. She could tell by the way the box was made that it was something nice, probably the diamond earrings she'd hinted at the other day.

He just simply lets out a chuckle before shaking his head, moving to get onto one knee in front of her and gently taking the box from her hands. "Actually, it comes with something else." He says softly, opening the box to expose a diamond ring. This must've been what he bought with his huge bonus this year. "Trina Russo, I've known you for what feels like forever." He starts off, repositioning himself a little.

She has tears in her eyes, she's trying to bat them away but Mel going, _Awww...awww...awww..._ every five seconds doesn't help, and she finally can't hold them back anymore. They're running down her face, and Tom is just starting to get his words.

"Our beginning wasn't the smoothest. We had issues, but I think those were our worst ones..." He says, sighing a little. "We've been through a lot together, and I can't imagine going through anything more without you, baby." He whispers, taking a shaky breath. "So, Trina Eileen Russo, will you marry me?"

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_**What did you think? Please review and let me know. If you have anything youd like to see happen let me know please! It may help me with my writer's block haha.**_

_**Thanks!**_

_**G**_


	17. Chapter 17

**_Heyo. _**

**_Sorry, once again. I feel like this is how I always start my new chapters out with a "sorry I am a mad-woman working like crazy", but it happens lol. I've been trying to write this chapter but then got writer's block...no fun._**

**_Anyway, hope you like it ;)_**

**_G._**

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"Oh, Tom." She breathes, her expression completely blank to go along with her thoughts. Her emotions were running wild, but her thoughts were lacking. She brings her hand to her mouth and covers it, swallowing thickly before finally letting a few more tears. "I..." She stops herself before saying an impulsive yes. "Maybe we should talk it over, first." She whispers, trying to not let his mother hear it.

But now, of all times, she chooses to have super hearing (or chooses to be able to hear, unlike most times). "What?" She gasps, widening her eyes in shock.

Tom looks so disappointed, and she can tell she just broke his heart as he closes the box back in his hands, scooting it to the side and looking down. "Okay." He says, completely broken-hearted. Standing, he grabs the ring and walks calmly into the kitchen to breathe for a moment.

Mel looks at Trina, furrowing her brows. "But our talk? You said-"

"I didn't say no. I said I wouldn't say no." She murmurs sadly, looking down and standing up quickly. "I have to go talk with him." She says, rushing into the kitchen. "Tom? Oh, Tom..." She breathes, walking over to him sitting down at the countertop. His head was hung into his hands, the ring far away from him, all the way on the other end of the counter. "Honey I-"

"You said you wouldn't-"

"I didn't say no." She assures, hugging him tightly from his back, kissing his head sadly. "Tom, it...surprised me. I wasn't expecting it so soon, I guess. I'm not telling you no, I'm not even saying maybe. It's a yes, Tom." She whispers, letting her lips linger against his temple.

He turns around a little, his face red from holding back tears. "You're going to marry me?" He asks, his eyes flickering with a little bit of hope in them. When she nods, he turns around fully and stands up, picking her up as he hugs and kisses her. "Damn, why did you scare me like that, babe?" He breathes into her neck.

She chuckles sadly, resting her forehead on his. "I'm sorry." She says softly, closing her eyes. "I love you..."

He sets her down as he smiles, grabbing the ring and sliding it onto her finger. "You're going to make an amazing Mrs. Decker." He says in a soft voice, smiling bigger at her before kissing her nose.

She wears a big smile, too, and a huge rock on her finger now. As she looks down and admires it, she realizes it has to be at least two carats. "Tom? How big is this?"

"Hm?" He asks, furrowing his brows. "The ring?" When she nods, he bites his lip. "Well, I'm not sure of the cost exactly. But it was my grandmother's ring, ma gave it to me a few months back to give to you when I proposed."

Her eyes immediately fill with tears again, she twists it on her finger a little to straighten it up and bites her lip. "I absolutely love this, Tom..." She breathes, swallowing thickly. "This is better than I'd ever imagined, really. And most certainly, by _far_, the best Christmas I've ever gotten to celebrate."

…

…

It was New Year's Eve, only a week of engagement for the couple. They both decided they didn't even want to go out tonight, just wanted to spend this night bringing in the New Year with each other, no one else.

Trina brings in a bowl of queso to Tom who was dealing a deck of cards for them to play, something they do on lazy nights like these. It's 11:00, and this is their second game of cards. The earlier portion of the night was spent unwinding from their flight back from Miami. "I brought some more queso dip for the chips." She coos, setting them down on the table.

The television is playing in the living room, they can hear all of the _Dick Clark's Rockin' New Years Eve_ show while they play an intense game of rummy. "Mmm, good. Maybe this'll help my playing skills." He teases, dipping a chip into the cheesy goodness.

"Nothing can help your playing abilities." She taunts, looking up at him slyly over her cards as she rearranges them in the order she wants. "Face it, I'm the queen at playing Rummy."

He gives her a look, then couldn't help but smirk when he sees the ring glimmer. "Yeah, you are I guess."

"You've never beat me at this." She adds, taking a bite from a cheesy chip. "And I plan on keeping that streak goi-" Just then, he lays his cards down. All of them. He had every card he needed to go out. She glares as she watches his immature expression. "You're going to regret that." She says.

Though she had drastic threats throughout the rest of the game, he was the first to reach the five-hundred points that he needed to win the game, leaving her behind at four-hundred and thirty points. "So, who was bragging earlier about never losing to me? _Oh_! I think that was you, Tri."

She's still glaring at him. "Fine." She says, shrugging and setting her cards down. "Let's go watch the rest of the New Year special, it's almost time for the ball to drop." She says, looking at the clock on the dining room wall.

They both get up, and Tom is still snickering to himself. She hears him, but chooses to ignore him and let him basque in the glory of beating her. She didn't let him win, either. He won fair and square, he just had the right cards – and she simply did not.

Once they're both on the couch, Tom underneath and leaning against the arm, Trina in his lap with her arms snuggled in his, her back laying against his chest. "It's five minutes 'til." She says, smiling a little bit. "Do you realize that we were here last year together? Just us?" She asks. "Maybe New Year's Eve should just be _ours..._our tradition to not have friends over and not have a crazy party. This is the moment for us." She suggests.

He nods, smiling a little bit and kissing her softly. "I like that idea." He whispers before hearing the three minute warning from Dick Clark.

This is the very first time this show has ever aired, December 31, 1972. But she can already feel that it's going to be a _huge _hit, going on for generations to come. That's the small business side of her showing, as Tom says when she says things like that. He tells her all the time she has a mind for business, but she believes otherwise. She's good with just being a flight attendant.

She cranes her neck to look back at Tom before pressing a lazy kiss to his lips, feeling his mustache tickle her top lip like it sometimes does. She chuckles at that, closing her eyes and biting her lip after she pulls away enough to still feel his breath on her lips. "What is it?" He asks her, and she just shakes her head. It makes him laugh, as well.

"I just love you." She whispers, opening her eyes, and snuggling deeper into him, turning around and laying on her stomach on top of him. She looks down into his eyes lovingly and kisses him again, "I love you a lot."

He smiles a little, nodding. "I love you too, babe." He whispers, rubbing her lower back, almost rubbing her ass. His hand gently slides down, rubbing a cheek and she smirks.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asks.

He shrugs innocently, then gasps playfully and looks at his hand. "Did my hand slip?!" He asks sarcastically.

She just slaps him playfully before grabbing the hand he was using and putting it back on her ass. "I didn't say you should stop." She says, biting her lip. In the background, they're beginning to countdown. The crowd is cheering as the ball is dropping lower and lower. It's only twenty seconds until it's 1973, the second most life changing year she'll have (the first being 1971, back when she met Tom) – this is the year she'll become Mrs. Trina Decker. She's tied down. She's...only going to be with one person the rest of her life. The thought makes her clammy and she looks straight at Tom and swallows thickly. If she's going to be with someone for the rest of her life, she'd rather it be him.

_Ten, nine, eight..._

She grabs the glasses of champagne, handing him one before readying hers.

_Four, three, two, one...HAPPY NEW YEAR!_

She turns to Tom and kisses him lovingly as the ball drops, a passionate and sexy kiss filled with searing love. "Happy New Year, baby." She whispers, smiling at him a little bit before clinking their glasses together.

"Happy New Year, soon-to-be Mrs. Decker." He whispers, excitement ringing in his tone.

She's excited too, to be called Mrs. Decker. Maybe being tied down is a good thing for her.

…

…

Their breaths heavy and almost in unison, they're looking into each other's eyes like two love-sick puppies, still. It's Valentine's Day, and this was their third and final round for the night (probably final, since they're both tired. But sometimes they just can't stop). "Tom?" She whispers, swallowing thickly.

"Yeah babe?" He asks.

She looks away for a moment and then back at him, "When we get married, you promise me you won't sleep with anyone else, right?" She asks nervously. "I know we slept with Alan that one time and a few other couples since...but I just-"

"Hey." He stops her, rubbing her cheek gently with a soft fingertip. "I know that tone of voice. You're all nervous just because we had some fun swinging a few months back. Don't worry about that, Tri." He assures. "Once we're married, it's just us."

"Right." She whispers, biting her lip softly. "And also?" She starts, waiting for him to nod. "That house we looked at yesterday," She says, taking a shaky breath. "I love it. I know you do, too...and I think it's the one."

Yesterday, they'd looked at a house in a Chicago suburb, one of the really nice subdivisions. It's a glass house, mostly, and it has so much potential to be a modern, gorgeous home for the two of them. It's huge, complete with a basement. They have no idea what they'll do with that, yet. It has a pool, a spot for an outdoor bar – but it hasn't ever been put in, a nice size yard (for a subdivision). She can just imagine them living there forever, plus it's not a bad price. They can add whatever they want to it.

They're even making money off of her inheritance – they put a portion of it into a stock that shot up so well, making them even richer. They don't even have to work, now, if it wasn't just for them liking their jobs. So far, the stock has brought them in about a half a million dollars, just since December. Now, they're even considering investing in a club. Maybe Tom was right, Trina's mind is made for business, too.

"That house in the suburbs?" He asks, biting his lip as well.

She nods and chuckles, "The one we both loved but _I _was too scared to admit that I loved it." She admits, shrugging and taking a deep breath, still trying to steady her breathing from their previous activities. "It's perfect for us, baby. Pool, bars, big kitchen, extra rooms for my photography and things..." She says, shaking her head. "It'd be a shame if we passed it up just because I wouldn't admit that I liked it."

He chuckles, shaking his head before rubbing her waist. "Good, because I told the realtor to hold it for us until next week. I really loved it, too."

Her smile grows from ear to ear, and she gets a bit misty eyed. "Tomorrow, you want to call about it?"

He nods, "Tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow." She agrees, smiling even bigger and letting out an excited squeal, hugging his neck tightly and kissing all over his face.

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_**THEY FOUND A HOUSE! I REPEAT, THEY FOUND A HOUSE! WOOOOOOOOOOOOO. **_

_**Okay, back to business. Trina wanting a closed marriage kinda throws y'all for a loop, right? Yeah. I feel like she probably wasn't so open about open marriage, just because she's a protective woman anyway. She likes to keep what's hers, hers. I feel like she wouldn't feel right, right now, about an open marriage.**_

_**Your thoughts? Nice comments! You can disagree, but nicely! ;) :)**_

_**G.**_


	18. Chapter 18

**_A/N: _**

**_Hey guys. So, sad news. This is the last chapter of Before the Deckers - because by the end of this chapter, they are officially "The Deckers"._**

**_I've had so much fun writing this story, and it's really bittersweet to let it go._**

**_If anyone has any ideas of a new story, something they'd like to see, please feel free to let me know any time._**

**_Thank you for reading this story I've given you, and I look forward to writing more._**

**_Thanks,_**

**_G._**

**_/_**

"Last one." Trina says, putting the last picture frame up on the shelf, from the last box, of the last room full of boxes. All of their stuff was finally under one roof together.

Tom wraps his arm around her softly, kissing her head. "For a few moments there, I thought we weren't going to get finished before the big day." He coos.

She chuckles, biting her lip and looking up at him, "Oh come on, we have until...tomorrow." She says sarcastically, shaking her head. "I still have to make sure Mel is okay with bringing a lot of the food..."

He steps away and nods, "She called me this morning, double checked with me if that's what we still wanted to do." He explains, "So everything there is good. And we still have all of our guests coming."

She looks at him, stepping to him again and wrapping her arms around him before he scoops her up into his, and she wraps her legs around his waist to pull their bodies closer together before planting a kiss on his lips. "I can't wait to be Mrs. Decker, but can we just have one more time as Trina Russo and Tom Decker?" She asks.

He smirks a bit, walking forward a few steps and pressing her against the front door. "You mean our last time as a non-married couple? I think I can manage that." He teases, kissing her again and nibbling down her neck, lifting her arms up above her head to get better access to her breasts.

She lets out a moan, all while her mind is thinking about this will be the last time she has sex as a non-married woman. Tomorrow, she'll be his wife. She leans down and kisses his head, an odd move for her when he's doing naughty things to her. It must confuse him, because he picks his head up from her breasts and looks at her with a confused expression, "What's that for?" He asks softly.

A soft smile appears on her face, maybe one that shows a little embarrassment from being so out of character, "I just am really happy to have finally found a man who I love with all of my heart, Tom..." She whispers, kissing his head again. "A man who doesn't just...want me for my body, or want me for arm candy, or look at me as a sex toy. A man who looks at me and-"

"And sees an amazing young woman, with so much life ahead of her, so much promise." He whispers. "A woman who's been through a lot, and is now going to have someone by her side for the rest of her life to go through it all with." He says to her, kissing her lips lovingly.

She has misty eyes before she picks her head up and looks around their house. _Their _house. "I love you, Tom." She whispers, looking back down at him. "You're an amazing man."

"And you're an amazing woman, babe." He says, smiling sadly and kissing her again before slowly making his way up the stairs with her in his arms. They reach the bed, and he gently lays her down. She feels butterflies again, just like the first time in that hotel room after a flight. Back when _Green Eyed Lady _was playing on the radio, back when he could seduce her just with his damned mustache, back when neither of them knew it would turn into more than a one night stand.

She grabs her stomach and chuckles, rubbing it gently, "You give me such strong butterflies." She admits, looking up into his eyes seductively, blowing a kiss to him.

He smirks, kissing down her body and taking her dress off. "Do I?" He asks coyly, getting a moan out of Trina (and even she wasn't sure if it was out of annoyance from him being coy, or if it was because she was just that turned on).

"Oh, you do." She whispers, taking his clothes off quicker than normal, but with ease – she wasn't fumbling around at all. She looks at him and smiles again, reminiscing and taking it all in that tomorrow, she'll be married to this handsome man. While she was imagining and thinking, she hadn't hardly realized Tom had stripped her free of her clothes, and was feeling her wetness through her folds with his fingers. She shakes her head, "We don't need foreplay. I just want it." She whispers, making him smirk.

She knows he likes the foreplay, and she likes it too, sometimes, but sometimes they both just like to _do _it. Just to feel each other, feel him inside of her and moving like a well-oiled piece of machinery.

He slides in softly, leaning down to kiss down her chest as they both let out a moan, Tom's more of a whimper. "I don't know how you _always _feel so amazing, Trina." He whispers.

She shrugs playfully, wrapping her arms around his neck and gently scratching her nails against his skin – more like a tickle, a soothing touch. "I think I found what love feels like." She admits.

…

…**..**

"Mel?" Trina asks desperately as the woman, so graciously, is helping her with her veil. When she has the woman's attention, she turns to face her instead of looking at her in the mirror. "When I ask this question, it's going to sound silly." She admits.

"Oh, honey, I raised Tom. There are no silly questions anymore." She teases and winks at Trina, who gives the older woman a smirk.

"Well," She says and laughs, shaking her head, "Anyway, I want you...I'd like you to walk me down the aisle – since my father can't. He'd love to be here, he just-"

"Don't even ask me again." She says, and Trina felt her breath hitch in her throat, thinking the woman was mad. "I'd be so honored to walk you down the aisle, sweetie."

Trina lets a breath of relief come out of her mouth, and she smiles down at Mel before hugging her, and turning back to face the mirror. Her dress is simple, silk and loose around the top with capped sleeves, and a flowy (but not big) skirt and train on the bottom. The very bottom, right above the ground, was trimmed in white lace to give some more texture to it. Other than that, she looked simple – but absolutely stunning.

She couldn't help but smile when she saw her face through the veil, wondering what Tom will think of her like this. It seems like only yesterday she was checking her face in the lavatory on the plane before she brought Tom his coffee on one of her first days there, and now she's marrying the man.

"Whatcha think?" She hears Mel, breaking up her thoughts.

Trina looks over her shoulder at Mel, smiling a bit. "I think that I'm about to be married into the best family ever, a family I never had."

…

…**..**

They walk from the beach shack – the same place Tom and Trina had fought in that night about sex and other things. Trina is holding her train so she won't trip, watching the sand squish between her toes as she walks closer to the water. She's holding a simple bouquet in her hand, as well, and Mel has her arm intertwined with Trina's.

Mel stops them, smiling a little at the curly haired woman before clearing her throat. "Trina, I know I'm being the dad in this situation, but right now I'm going to be the mom. I know you didn't have a good relationship with your mom, Tom told me some of it – basically that she never really cared for you like she should've." Mel pauses and Trina feels tears gather in her eyes, getting emotional already. "I remember the day you came into my salon, Trina, and you told me you wanted red nails. You had told me about your nights, and such. Gosh, right then I couldn't believe a woman like you didn't have a loving man. Tom never crossed my mind once for you – but I'm _so glad _that you two came together. You made him a better man."

Trina feels a tear trickle down her cheek, and she wipes it before it falls from her chin. "Mel, you don't have to say th-"

"Yes, I do." Mel says, smiling like the old woman always did, and always does. "I'm proud of both of you. I love you both _so _much." She stops there, and goes on her toes to kiss Trina's forehead, then wipes the lipstick stain off that she'd just left.

It makes Trina laugh softly, and she bites her lip. "I guess I'm ready to be Mrs. Decker." She whispers.

Mel smiles and nods, "Then come on, let's get this moving." She says, taking her arm again and getting into place, directly in front of the minister.

One of Tom's buddies is playing the guitar as she walks down the aisle with Mel, holding her bouquet in front of her and looking at Tom with misty eyes. When she gets closer, she sees he has tear stains all down his cheeks. She never pinned him to be the type to cry in their wedding, but it makes her smile anyway.

She reaches the end with Mel, who turns to give her a kiss on the cheek before sitting down on the same bench as Rex was now sitting. Trina turns to Tom and they take each other's hands, giving each other a smile. "Hey." He whispers.

"Hey." She whispers back, sniffling as her smile gets bigger.

The minister starts, but they weren't listening to him. They were listening to each other's thoughts, somehow. They could talk through their eyes, she swears, and when he squeezes her hand, she squeezes back.

"Trina, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The minister asks Trina, who knows that is her cue.

"I do." She says, smiling even _bigger _at Tom. Her cheeks hurt, but she didn't mind.

The minister looks at Tom, nodding to him, "Tom, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" He asks him, and Tom nods.

"I do." He says, squeezing Trina's hands again.

They place the rings on each other's hands, and the minister says, "I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Tom." He says, smiling at them both.

They lean into each other's lips, strongly, passionately, lovingly. It was a seal, a seal of their life together from now on. Never to be broken.

"I love you, Mr. Decker." Trina says, pressing her forehead against Tom's.

Tom smiles a bit, nodding, "I love you too, Mrs. Decker."


End file.
